


Stand Together

by Marie_Fanwriter



Series: Until the End [3]
Category: Mass Effect Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Drug Abuse, Drug Use, Eventual Happy Ending, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Misunderstandings, Recovery, Rescue, Suicidal Thoughts, Unresolved Emotional Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-02
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-11-09 09:06:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 15
Words: 84,844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11101353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marie_Fanwriter/pseuds/Marie_Fanwriter
Summary: At the end of the war, what was left was heartbreaking. Shepard's status unknown. The Normandy crashed on a garden world. Shepard's love injured in the final push. The Geth and EDI unmoving. The bulk of the galactic fleet and the Citadel in the Sol system. What happened in those ensuing days? Weeks and months?It's time to find out.





	1. Part 1 - Where are we?

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for joining me again for this foray into my version of events. This story can be read on it's own but it does use my story Stand Alone as the events for ME2. The implication of that story being Shepard's timing was not so perfect, and Garrus was captured by the gangs instead of being rescued. The results were... unpleasant.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final push is finished, the war seemingly over. Where is everyone?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My heart and soul has gone into this story over the past two years. I'll be adding chapters as they're edited and I'd like to thank my beta reader Squiggly_squid for all the help! I've learned a lot and hope that you enjoy my version of post ME3. 
> 
> The entire work should be up within the month!

Chapter 1 +-+-+-+

An asari commando, Urdnot Tamara, named for her father’s clan, stumbled through another pile of rubble. She had been scouting since the early hours of the standard day. Her exhaustion was starting to grate, each step becoming almost painful. Another hour or so and she’d finally be finished with her shift, maybe even be lucky enough to find a hot meal and a bunk.  

Tamara, like many other asari commandos, had been stationed on - of all places - the Destiny Ascension during the final push. The war had ended just two and a half days ago and she, along with many others from her ship, was able to be spared for scouting efforts on the Citadel. It was hard work, but they needed as many bodies as possible to find survivors because each hour that number diminished.

It was amazing how quickly the galaxy’s remaining military leaders had assembled and developed a recovery plan. Work had already begun on repairing the relays from whatever had stopped the Reapers. Teams were hard at work trying to reactivate geth, repair the quarian liveships, and take part in search and rescue operations on Earth and the Citadel. With everyone stuck in the Sol system, the coordinated effort was going swimmingly.

It turned out that, after the Cerberus attack on the Citadel, a plan was hatched in the case of similar emergencies.  Because the citizens of the Citadel had hidden in bunkers, over half of the station’s population was alive and well.  That included many of C-Sec’s higher up’s and the current Citadel Council with the exception - regrettably - of the asari Council member, Tevos.  Immediately after the war, those alive were able to immediately help efforts on Earth and the rest of the Citadel.  

The overall losses were currently estimated at 37% of the whole of the galactic population and, every day, the survivors worked to reduce that number by points of a percent in any way they could.

Tamara had taken it upon herself to explore the keeper tunnels in one of the deserted wards near the center of the Citadel. The keepers hadn’t been seen by anyone since the Reapers were destroyed, so they were rather empty as she walked through the darkness. When she tripped over something in the dark and, looked down, she screamed at the realization that it was a body. 

Thankfully for her sake, no one else heard… that would have been embarrassing.

She keyed her omnitool open and asked for back-up before continuing down the hallway, too headstrong for her own good - must be the krogan blood from her father. 

She hoped he was ok. He was in Aralakh Company, after all, and they had been in the middle of the fighting. 

Thankful for her helmet, she passed more and more bodies.  Tamara hoped the number wasn’t in the hundreds, but feared it might be. Her pistol out in front of her and biotics flaring bright enough to lighten up the dark depressing hallway, Tamara made her way down the path. Her omnitool was set to ping if it found any life signs but, so far, found nothing…. 

She couldn’t remember this section of the Citadel in any of the plans she had seen, but that didn’t mean this was an entirely new area. The Citadel was enormous.

Suddenly, the bodies ended and there was a great open expanse in front of her. She hesitated to look down, but she could still see the great pillars circling around a central platform. Judging by what she could see, it made sense that she was in the Citadel’s core. Tamara jogged up the set of stairs. She had to make sure no one was up there. 

At the top of the stairs, she could see three bodies… all human. She took a step into the room. A man lay just inside her entrance, his head blasted open by the gun in his own hand. She took a step towards him and immediately recoiled upon seeing the Reaper tech exerting itself over his skin. She was hesitant to look at the other two bodies, but steeled herself and took a few more steps.

*PING*

Tamara jumped about a foot in the air and yelped when her omnitool alert broke the silence. Her heart pounded in her chest.  _ Wait… one of the other two was alive! _

The asari took a few more steps forward, her pistol directly in front of her and ready to shoot either of them if they came at her. “Identify!” she yelled, her voice strong just like her father taught her.

Neither of the humans moved as she took a few more steps and knelt down beside the first of them, a male. He didn’t register as alive on her Omni, so she stood back up and crossed the expanse to the female laying at the foot of a console.

*PING*

She was alive! 

Immediately, she tore the medi-gel canisters from her belt and dialed the emergency frequency on her communication unit. She gently rolled the woman onto her back, and her jaw dropped. This was her… the woman from the vids… the Saviour of the Citadel, Hero of the Blitz, traitor to the Council turned Savior of the Galaxy. “Commander Shepard…” Tamara whispered in disbelief.

“This is Alpha-Zero, over.”

Tamara was too stunned to hear it, let alone reply to her command base. Quickly removing her glove she placed a dark blue hand beside the commander’s mouth. Soft warm breaths touched her skin and the asari all but tore her own helmet off. She grabbed the medi-gel and started applying a liberal coating to the worst of the Commander’s burns.

“This is Alpha-Zero, Alpha-Fife-too-Tree respond.”

The asari was too busy working on the commander to notice her com. Instead, she started whispering to the unconscious woman, “It’s going to be ok. I’ve got you. Deep breaths, Commander. You are going to make it through this. Goddess! I cannot believe that you are alive.”

“ALPHA-FIFE-TOO-TREE RESPOND!” Command was yelling at the asari now. “TAMARA! Answer the god damned com! REPORT NOW!”

The use of her name brought her out of her haze. “Zero, this is Fife-Too-Tree, I need immediate medical assistance at my location. I’ve found the Commander. I’ve found Commander Shepard.”

-+-+-

Joker limped outside the ship. He knew he’d broken something in the crash, but that didn’t matter right now. What did was the fact he needed to get off the  _ Normandy _ . 

He couldn’t bear to look at her lifeless body for another second. 

EDI wouldn’t respond to him, her humanoid form sat limply in the co-pilot chair, and her avatar was nowhere to be found. He’d rushed to the AI core after landing and found her usually brightly lit panels were dimmed down. Like the dying embers of a bonfire, it was almost out. 

Dropping to his knees he took a few heaving breaths. The tears wouldn’t come but his body wanted to sob uncontrollably. The depth of his relationship with the resident AI had been mostly unknown by the crew, only those in the core team had known of it. Fewer still understood. No one else could understand the depth of his pain, the pain of losing his love. 

After a few minutes a gentle, cool hand touched his shoulder and he almost believed it to be her, but it wasn’t. It was just the pale blue asari. Liara whispered comforts into his ear and held him as he shook. Soon, she wept right along with him. It was a long time before either of them were silent, and neither of them was ready to stand, but they had to. They had to be strong because no one else would be strong for them now. 

“Let’s call everyone to the briefing room,” Jeff said, his voice raw. “That’s what Shepard would have done.”

Liara nodded and helped the pilot to his feet. “Let me check first to see if Chakwas can leave Garrus for a few minutes.”

“How’s he doing? It was a pretty tense pick-up.” 

Her face was pinched with worry. “Not good. If you hadn’t gotten there when you did I don’t think he would have even made it this far. Come on, let’s go inside. We can meet in the mess hall instead.”

Upon entering the ship, Liara headed down to the crew deck and Joker gathered the crew from the CIC and War room. The crew was rather sparse - only those required to run the ship were on board - and that meant most of the ground team was gone. Liara, Javik, and Garrus were the only three remaining. 

During the final push everyone was assigned a task. Many of the crew were working with their respective races or militaries. James and Kaidan had teams on Earth to lead, Tali was back with the Flotilla and EDI was out of commission. Liara and Garrus had been with Shepard in the final push, and Javik was on board in case of a shipboard emergency because he was best suited for close quarters combat with Reaper forces without backup.

When Joker stepped out of the elevator with the last load down to the mess, he wasn’t exactly surprised to see Garrus. Chakwas was at his side trying to force him to at least sit down, but the turian was having none of it, his expression unreadable through a fresh swath of bandages and his damaged visor. It took Liara bringing a chair over and giving him  _ the look _ to get him to take a seat. He finally sunk into the chair and scoped out the faces in the room, all eyes on him and Liara.

The  _ Normandy  _ had no official XO, but, unofficially, it was obvious Garrus would have been the first choice. Now that Shepard was gone, he slid into the Commander’s chair and Liara into that of the XO’s. No one questioned it. If anyone had, they’d probably be paste on the wall courtesy of Engineer Adams or Doctor Chakwas. 

Joker limped over to stand beside Liara and Garrus. The turian didn’t look at him but Liara, however, smiled, her encouraging nod confirming that at least someone wanted him there. The crew quieted down when he stilled and Garrus took a deep breath before speaking. 

“Jeff, sitrep.” His voice was strained and ragged, as though the burns went all the way down his throat. 

Joker only hesitated a second before going over the events of the past few hours. It felt just like after the crew had been taken before the assault on the Collector Base. “After emergency evac, we retreated to a safe distance near the relay. Without knowing what the Crucible was capable of, we tried to evade the beam. Seconds after entering the relay, the Crucible's light… uh... thing or whatever caught up with us. We were forced out of hyperspace. The ship’s systems started to go haywire so I chose the nearest M-Class planet and forced her down.”

“EDI, systems report.” Garrus knew he’d said something wrong when Jeff stiffened, hung his head, and closed his eyes.

“She can’t…” he whispered. He might’ve gone on but Liara jumped in instead. 

“She’s gone into some kind of standby mode. We’ve had no luck in communicating with her in any of her interface locations. Adams? Can you fill us in?” 

By Adam’s description, it seemed as though the remainder of the ship was damaged but repairable, the issues more cosmetic than anything else. The problem would be getting the systems working without EDI’s help because the AI’s programming was heavily woven through the Ship’s systems and, without her, it would take days or maybe weeks of labour to get the  _ Normandy  _ flying again. 

Garrus dragged his gaze reluctantly from Jeff’s face to focus on the task at hand. “Doctor Chakwas, do we have any casualties?”

Ever the professional, she responded, “Nothing serious. A few minor injuries from the… abrupt landing, a couple of electrical burns from the ship’s systems sparking during the firefight. What I am more concerned with is the state of our rations. We have enough to sustain a full crew compliment for a month in storage, not including the fresh rations in the refrigeration unit.”

Liara was the one to speak up first. “What’s the issue then?”

Chakwas shifted her gaze to Garrus again. “We have levo rations for a month. Our dextro ones won’t last through next week, you’ve got maybe nine full days worth.”

The turian didn’t flinch or make any sort of reaction to the news. In fact, it seemed like he ignored the issue entirely. “Our first task will be getting communications back online. Traynor, who do you need?” The young officer hesitantly named off three other people who moved to stand behind her. “Adams, next priority is propulsion.” 

He stopped to cough wetly and waved off Chakwas who looked as though she might move to intercept him. With a ragged breath he continued. “Jeff, get those navigational sensors and controls up and running, we need to know where the hell we are. Javik, take Westmoreland and Campbell with you to scout the area. We need to know what’s out there. Liara...” With a nod Liara headed off to her room, the unspoken command obvious,  _ get me information _ .

When Garrus coughed again, it was Chakwas who spoke up to the rest of the crew. “To your duties.” Her tone was not one to be trifled with and they quickly dispersed. 

Garrus didn’t protest this time, he was too busy trying not to hack up a lung. Copeland was the only one to hold back. The yeoman approached the doctor and quietly asked, “Is there anything I can do to be of assistance?” She was the only one yet to be assigned a task.

“We need to get him back to the infirmary, can you go fetch the wheelchair?” she replied wearily. Copeland hurried off towards the medical storage locker while the doctor looked over her charge again. She’d repaired the worst of the shrapnel damage but turians and burns didn’t mix well. Further evidenced by the deep scarring on his face, shoulder, and neck. “Garrus, I need to get you on oxygen again.”

He shook his head stubbornly. “No time, have to get the weapons back on-” He wheezed and nearly started coughing again. “Back online,” he finished and forced himself up from the chair.

“Shepard needs you more than the weapons do, you stubborn, stubborn man!” Chakwas and Garrus were both startled by the yeoman’s reprimand. She had only just appeared around the corner from the medical bay. “She ordered Joker to bring the ship down onto an active battlefield to pick you up. Obviously, she wanted you to survive, so follow her orders and get back into the medbay!” 

He chuckled roughly, “I must look like a wreck if you’ve already started using her against me. Fine, I’ll go. But I’m not sitting in that spirits damned chair.”

-+-+-

Earth’s major cities were in ruins and nearly a third of the estimated remaining population were in ships orbiting the planet. With the Reapers destroyed, the war effort was turned on its head in a matter of hours. Everyone was still forced to find a way to stay alive, only now the enemies were hunger, dehydration, and shock instead of massive killer machines. 

While many species started to panic, the turians were the ones to step up and take control, the galaxy’s stabilizing element in this time of panic. They had post-war plans already in development, all stemming back to the Reaper Task Force under the command of one Reaper Advisor Vakarian. Even without the Advisor, the plan still fell into place with the Primarch calling each race’s remaining leader to a central meeting point in London the morning after the final push. 

It was there that Admiral Hackett, Clan leader Urdnot Wrex, Admiral Tali’Zorah vas  _ Normandy _ , Primarch Victus, Major Kirrahe, Commandant Vakyu of the Volus Dreadnought Kwunu, and Matrich Tela-Ai came together. Although all species were invited, no representative from the hanar, drell, batarians, or elcor attended the meeting, either because they had no leader, or were all but wiped out from the battle with the Reapers. 

When Victus stood from his seat at the large conference table and the rag-tag group the room quieted. “Friends, we have a galaxy to save. The battle is over, but the war is not. Now is the time for continued cooperation and getting home. Our orders of business are as follows; medical aid, rations, clean-up efforts, technological repairs, and search crews.”

The room was silent as he explained that the ‘Multi-Species Council’ would be a temporary measure until they got through the next few months. Since most of those in the room were military figureheads, it only made sense that this was a temporary solution. Military leaders were promoted by merit, not chosen by the people. Once governments could be reestablished and the previous council was determined to be alive or not, they could find something more permanent. Surprisingly, no one objected. 

“On to the next order of business; we need to get as many hospitals back in working order as possible and determine the extent of the damage to farmlands.” The Primarch turned to Tali. “What is the status of your liveships? They are, unfortunately, the only source of dextro compatible food in this sector.” 

Tali stood from her seat, careful of her leg, injured in the final push when a husk had gotten too close. “All three liveships are still operational, although the  _ Shella  _ took the worst of the damage during the Geth Conflict. If we could get it into a shipyard we could repair it quickly.”

“Do we have an estimated population yet?”

“Admiral Korris estimates that we have about ten million Quarians left in the fleet of the original seventeen million.”

As the rest of the room swallowed the number, Victus came back with his own. “Our numbers show that we have 7 million troops in orbit and on the surface. We can provide immediate support for the repairs on the  _ Shella  _ if the Alliance can provide a bay for it.” He turned to Hackett.

“Done. Can’t have anyone starving on us. I hope you don’t mind being a vegan for a while, Victus.” There was almost a smile on his face. “As for the Alliance, we have the largest population here, by far. Initial estimates are showing as many as 7 billion left of our original 11.4 on Earth, plus 3 million in the fleets. By the looks of it, most of our farmland is untouched. The Reapers were more interested in the cities with the highest population densities. I’ll get our people working on getting our fields back in order. Seems like that needs to come before the cities.”

Wrex was next to speak up. “We’ve got 4 million troops here, take or leave a hundred thousand or two. My men will get restless and with the plague cured, they want to get back to Tuchanka. Where do we stand on that?”

Victus answered, “Admiral Hackett has already sent the word out to the Crucible team to start working on the relays. Until then, Wrex, your men are needed to do some of the heavy lifting here on Earth. We need to get rid of the Reaper corpses. I want those things away from our fleets and off the ground. Major?” He turned to the salarian.

It was Kirrahe’s turn to stand from his seat. “Right… we have determined the best way to destroy Reaper parts is to throw them into an active star. Sol will do for this purpose. Those salarians with tech backgrounds will be assigned to the relays and communications equipment. Those without can help dismantle and destroy the Reapers.”

“And your estimates?”

“2 million, 528 thousand, 342 salarians are in the system. More, once the status of the Citadel is uncovered. I believe we also have enough to support an operation to reactive the Geth if the rest of the Council agrees.” 

Tali was quick to throw her support behind the Geth project and the rest of the council had little reason to object. The Quarians had come to peace after a 300 year long war, if they were still willing to work with the Geth then so should the rest of the Galaxy.

Over the following hours, they completed an initial plan of attack for the cleanup and recovery efforts. All species would work together to make this plan succeed, and it was decided that Hackett would make an address to fleets in the Sol System as soon as they finished here.

Victus was just about ready to conclude the meeting, but there was just one final order of business. “The  _ Normandy _ .” Everyone impatiently waited for him to continue. “We know that the Commander and most of her ground team was on the ground during the final push. Admiral Hackett, what information can you give us?”

Hackett stood up, his face grave. “The Commander made it to the Citadel and I was in contact with her for a few minutes. There was something wrong on her end and I urged her to figure out what it was. She was in bad shape, but somehow Shepard managed to pull through again.” He took a breath. “We haven’t heard from her since. The sooner we can get teams to the Citadel, the better.”

“And the  _ Normandy  _ herself?”

“During the final push, the  _ Normandy  _ evacuated the Commander’s ground team. They retreated at her command to the rendezvous point near the relay. Once the Crucible fired, I ordered the full retreat and the  _ Normandy  _ headed into the relay. We haven’t been able to locate her yet, but I have a team on it. The  _ SSV Benjamin Davis _ was with them when they hit the relay, so it is possible they went to the same location.”

Victus sighed and rubbed a hand over his fringe. “Major Kirrahe, we need communications back online between here and the Citadel. If anyone is alive up there, we need to know and have them begin a search if they haven’t done so already. Matriarch, the Destiny Ascension was under the command of an asari, was it not?”

The stoic asari had been mostly silent until now, but she responded with an open offer. “It was and still is. What can we do?”

“Can you coordinate with them and get search teams onto the Citadel? They have the largest force and those people, without a doubt, will have more advanced knowledge of the Citadel than most.”

“It will be done.”

-+-+-

The next few minutes passed in a blur for the young asari. Before Tamara knew it, she was surrounded by medics and security personnel from all the races, or so it seemed. 

She was pulled away from the Commander and replaced with three teams that had enough medical equipment to perform surgery right there on the ground. She heard commands and utterances of shock and awe shouted from the medical team as she watched them rush to tend to their patient; pass the medi-gel, I need bandages, how is she even still breathing, get me oxygen now, we need to find a place to insert an IV, careful with that scalpel, goddess she’s alive!

They were unable to get a transport shuttle into the tiny space, so security, instead, worked quickly at clearing a path for a stretcher. It was a good thing the Commander was out cold; she wouldn’t have wanted all of this fanfare if the vids rang true. It wasn’t until Executor Chellick - the previous Executor, Pallin, killed during the Cerberus Coupe just a month ago - arrived that everything seemed to get under control as the seasoned C-Sec Officer brought immediate order to the situation.

Once Shepard was loaded onto a stretcher and taken to the hospital, the Executor took stock of the situation. Tamara saw the change in him immediately as  he went from commander to investigator in the blink of an eye. 

He knelt down next to the dark-skinned male and shut his eyes a moment, shaking his head. “Someone get Hackett on the line, we’ve got Admiral Anderson here.” He crossed to the other man, the one with the Reaper tech. The turian would have looked disgusted if he hadn’t schooled  his expression so quickly. He turned to his aid. “Let’s get an ID on this one.”

“Sir?” his aid questioned.

The Executor stood up. “There were three people up here. Two of them were some of the most important people in this war effort. We would be stupid to think that this man was any less important. Get an ID.” The aid nodded and ran off, ostensibly to fetch an investigative team. Chellick let his weariness show through for a moment and took a deep breath to steady himself before turning to her. “Tamara, I presume?”

The asari started at his assertion.  _ He wants to talk to me! _ “Sir.”

He closed the distance between them and held out his arm, a krogan gesture she realized when he grabbed her forearm with his own and slapped her shoulder with his free hand.  _ A little odd,  _ she thought to herself. “So? How does it feel to have found the Saviour of the Galaxy?”

She blushed a bright violet, just like her mother would whenever her father paid her a compliment. “I was just doing my job.”

“Spoken like a krogan. Your father will be proud of that.”

“How do you know my father is krogan?” she asked tentatively.

“I had your file transmitted to my Omni-tool the second I heard someone had found Shepard. That, and every iota of information about this as there was available. Now, Tamara, I need you to answer a few questions. Can you do that for me?”

“I can. But, then, can I go see her?”

The turian seemed a little taken aback by the question. “Why would you want to do that?”

“I think she is going to need a friendly face. With all those doctors around-” She hesitated a moment and Chellick waited patiently for her to answer. “They still haven’t found my family and we haven’t heard from hers. This is the least I can do for her. And we owe her everything.”

He took a moment to consider this before replying, “Maybe I should have gone with an asari greeting.” He laughed. “Your mother would be proud too. I’ll take you to the Commander myself once we are done here.”

She smiled. “Thank you, Executor.”

Chellick’s questioning was rather short and he was true to his word. Right after they finished up, they walked out through the keeper tunnels together and got into a shuttle transport, heading straight to Huerta Memorial. It was one of the first places to get extensive repairs with round the clock service, and with so many people injured, it was needed more than ever now. Doctors and nurses worked harder than the cleanup crews still working to get the place running and everyone with medical experience was thrown into the fray.

With communications still being touchy, there wasn’t any grand explosion of people surrounding the hospital. There were only whispers of a VIP being brought in. Tamara was brought into the waiting room and told to take a seat. 

She sat in that chair for hours. People came and went from that room, but she was a fixture. For now, at least. Every so often someone would come and update her on the progress the doctors had made. Sometimes a new C-Sec officer would replace the old one who was sitting with her - or guarding her, which was more likely.

She fell asleep late that night in the waiting room. Curled up in the chair, still in her armor from the scouting mission, she slept more soundly than she had in months. Simply knowing that she had done something to help was enough to soothe her into a much needed sleep. 

It was very early in the morning when she woke up to the smell of food and the sight of Executor Chellick asleep in the chair beside her. Another C-Sec Officer was dropping off two paper bags onto the table in front of them along with two hot drinks. Tamara yawned and sat up fully in her chair, the blanket draped over her slipping down to cover just her legs. 

Looking over, she saw how the Executor was leaning back in his seat with his feet on the coffee table, his head tilted back so his fringe rested against his cowl, his mouth was wide open, and he was making that half purring noise that some turians did when they slept. She couldn’t stop her laugh and he snapped awake at the sound. 

“Sorry sir,” she said, still giggling.

“No, no. My fault,” he said quickly, sitting up with his arms on his knees. He took a deep breath and shook the last of the sleep from his face. Facing the human officer in front of him he spoke up. “Commander Bailey, what do you have for me?”

“Morning, Chellick, I’ve got breakfast courtesy of the Apollo’s café down the block. They’ve already got it up and running, free of charge for all recovery workers, C-Sec, and medical teams. So basically everyone.”

The turian grabbed the turian style cup and passed the other to Tamara. “Go on…” He gestured for Bailey to continue.

“Teams have yet to identify the third human, but the site has been secured and teams have finished going over it. Looks like the computers were wiped. Techs can’t get anything off them but will keep trying. We’re finally able to get in contact with Earth again, communications are still spotty but we have a meeting set up for you in an hour with the Primarch and Admiral Hackett. The QEC in the human ambassador’s office was reconnected this morning so you should have a solid connection.”

“Excellent,” Chellick said around a mouthful of kava. “And the Commander’s condition?”

“She is stable right now but still out. Doctors have her in the ICU, private room of course. We are trying to keep the media quiet but it won’t be long until rumors spread.” He pointed to Tamara. “Doc says she can go in. A friendly face that found her might help, they said, in lieu of her crew.”

“The  _ Normandy _ ?” Chellick prompted.

“Nothing yet, but Hackett should have more information.”

“Thanks, Bailey.” The turian stood up with his kava,reaching down to take the bag with his breakfast. “Tamara, after you finish eating, head in there for a while.” He bumped his omnitool to hers. “You have any trouble or if there are any issues call me directly. Shepard’s safety is our top priority.”

“You’ve got it, sir.”

“It’s Decian,” he said over his shoulder on the way out, Bailey following on his heels and immediately detailing everything else that passed within the past few hours.

-+-+-

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, here I am, being mean to Garrus. AGAIN! Honestly though, things would have needed to get pretty bad before Shepard called in the Normandy for Evac... directly in Harbinger's line of sight. I mean, really Shepard?
> 
> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Fanfiction Recommendation: Squiggly_squid's Nevermore. An Archangel era short from her wonderful Parable series. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8317195


	2. New Friends and Old

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Assess the situation, find the best best solution and execute. Even if it means you'll starve.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm just not nice to Garrus. Considering he's my favorite character in the ME universe, I really am a bitch to him.
> 
> Thank you again to squiggly_squid! Love you! <3

Chapter 2 +-+-+-

Tamara finished her food quickly; even if she hadn’t been ravenous she would have scarfed it down just as fast to get a chance to go see the Commander. There were two guards stationed at the door - a human and a turian - And they checked her ID before letting her into the room along with one of the doctors who introduced herself as Doctor Michel. The woman had a funny accent but was quite thorough in her explanation of everything they had done with the Commander thus far.

She said it was as though Shepard was in some kind of coma crossed with a standby mode. Her cybernetics weren’t broken, but it was as though they were hibernating. Tamara didn’t quite understand all the technological mumbo-jumbo, but she got the gist of it and was happy to sit by her side, letting time roll by. Time was something that they had an abundance of now.

Although…

Time meant that she now had enough time to consider the past few hours, days, weeks, and months. Time meant that she was also forced to face the possibility that maybe her parents wouldn’t be coming home after all this. She wouldn’t even have a home to go to if they weren’t. Even if they were alive, how would they even find her now? 

Time seemed as much a curse as a blessing.

The hours rolled by and Tamara waited in the quiet of the hospital. A few times an hour, doctors would come in and check on the Commander or give her medicine. Michel came by frequently to see Tamara as much as she was there to see Shepard. They spoke little as no one really seemed to talk at length in the human’s room.

It was nearing the night cycle when Executor Chellick - Decian, she corrected herself - came to visit. He looked worn to the bone, maybe even more than yesterday. “Tamara. How are you feeling?”

The asari stood up from her chair near the Commander’s bedside, “That’s what I should be asking you.” She smiled and turned towards him. “Bring dinner with you?”

He smiled back at her and laughed. “No. But I figured we could go find some. You’ve been in this room all day and I’m sure the Commander needs her rest. You do too,” he added as an afterthought.

She took one last look at the battered human before her, Shepard’s chest rising and falling in time with the beeping of the machines. “That sounds wonderful. Lead the way.”

Decian led her out of the room and she saw that there was a new pair of guards at the door and a team of doctors entering the room as they left. 

_ Needs her rest, eh? More like needs surgery _ , she thought to herself. 

The hospital looked much the same as the previous day, just a little more crowded. They stepped outside into the remains of the Presidium. “I’ve got a question,” she said.

The turian slowed his pace and turned his head to look down at her. “I’m sure you do. Can it wait until we get something to eat? I’m starved.” Before Tamara could respond her stomach betrayed her and growled. Decian just laughed and led the way up to the ruins of Apollo's Cafe. Although the Cafe’s interior wasn’t in a good state, the patio had been cleared and makeshift tables had been set up along with a cart of takeaway foods for all species. 

The shopkeeper waved them to the front of the line and passed two bundles of food over, one blue for Chellick and a second, purple one for Tamara. The salarian shopkeeper murmured his appreciation to the Executor for all the help getting back up and running, but the turian waved off the praise and thanked the man for the meal. Together, they sat down at a free table and tore into their packages. Even military rations tasted good at this point; hunger was an excellent seasoning. 

“So.” He opened the lines of conversation. “You had a question?” 

Tamara finished her mouthful before replying, “Quite a few actually. Let’s start with why are you taking such care of me?”

He hummed thoughtfully. “That wasn’t the question I was expecting first, but that I do have the answer to. Commander Shepard helped me out a long time ago and I still owe her for that. Taking care of you is the least I can do for her. Plus, she needs a friendly face in the wake of all these doctors. I can’t stay with her, but you can, and I hope you will.”

“But why me? Wouldn’t a human have been a better choice?”

He laughed. “I’m sure you’ve heard of her crew? Species is the least of her worries and I think she’d be pleased to have some krogan blood around. She was the one who brokered peace between them and the turians through brute force negotiations with the Urdnot leader, Wrex. And if the war stories from my old friend on her crew are true, then she is also the krantt of Urdnot Grunt, leader of your father’s company.”

Tamara was taken aback slightly by the honesty in his tone. “I hadn’t thought of it like that before. Ok, another question. You said you had a friend on her crew. Who?”

“Advisor Vakarian, turian liaison to the Primarch. He was my partner at C-Sec years ago, a junior detective under my instruction when he made it to the rank. Before the geth attack on the Citadel, if you can believe that. And he is the other reason why I am taking care of you. He will want to thank you himself.” His mouth turned into the turian version of a frown and his brow furrowed. “If we ever find him, that is.” 

Tamara made to ask a follow-up question but was stopped by his hand. “Enough of that for now. I’ve got some news for you. Communications are stable now between us and the planet. Stable enough that my meeting today with the remaining military leaders went over smoothly. Admiral Hackett of the Alliance was quick to say he wants additional security for Shepard and clan leader Wrex immediately volunteered Aralakh company.”

Her jaw dropped. “You can’t be serious… is he… is dad coming?”

Chellick’s mandibles dropped into a smile and he nodded. “They should be here by morning. Apparently, when Grunt told Aralakh that you were here, your father headbutted his way onto the mission. Literally.”

She laughed. “Sounds like dad.” Tears threatened to roll down her cheeks. “I can’t believe he’s alive. Have you… have you heard from Thessia yet?”

The turian’s smile faltered. “Not yet. We only have communications up in the system so far. No word from any of the homeworlds. The galaxy’s best were all working on the Crucible so now they are working on getting the relays back into working order. Until then, everyone is stuck here in Sol.”

Tamara nodded and then asked, “Do you have family back on Palaven?”

“I did. But most of Palaven was evacuated early in the war. Most of my people went back to active military duty all over the galaxy. My brother was on Tuchanka, of all places.” He laughed. “Said he was more scared of the krogan than the Reapers if you can believe it.”

She laughed with him. “I can. I remember the first time I saw my dad charge! Knew right then that I’d be a vanguard. My mother wasn’t too pleased.” 

They spent the next hour chatting together until the Citadel’s artificial sky dimmed and night settled in. Decian led Tamara back to his apartment where she had the best night’s sleep on his couch since the war started. In the morning, she went back to the hospital to watch over Shepard and the Executor went back on duty.

-+-+-

It had been four days. Four days of solid work, little rest, and slow recovery. The communications system was maybe a day away from being completed, and the engines about half a week. Repairs were going slow but steady. 

The haunted look on Joker’s face had faded a little after two of the crewmen moved EDI’s body to the AI core, and the rest of the crew were trying to keep in good spirits. Those who didn’t have a strong technical background spent their time doing the grunt work needed to fix the outer hull and collected fresh rations from the surrounding area. The planet was uninhabited in this region and, unfortunately for Garrus, it was a levo-based world. 

He’d moved to starvation rations immediately, and his supplies would last an extra week if he could keep it up. He hadn’t thought past that though; there was no need. If they couldn’t get off the surface before then, there was no way they’d get to a food source before he starved to death. He thanked the Spirits Tali wasn’t on board, wherever she was. Whatever happened to her couldn’t be as bad as this. If she’d been there, they would be completely out of food in a week from today. Shepard would never forgive herself if she’d lost both her best friend and lover due to an oversight in ship stores.

The only thing he had going for him right now was that they had a huge supply of kava. Just like coffee curbed the appetite of the humans, kava would help him avoid hunger pains. He figured he would be able to perform basic tasks on his current regimen for another week before starvation started to win out. He’d pass command to Liara when that happened, finally acquiesce to the doctor’s wishes, and move to the medical bay. 

The turian stayed in the battery for the most part and, at Chakwas’ urging, he was seated at his console instead of standing and had an oxygen tube hooked up to his nose. His lungs were badly damaged, his lower torso had been punctured by shrapnel, and his chest had been burned. Without the oxygen hookup, he was useless and, even with it, his mobility was reduced. He knew the visual wasn’t helping his commanding stance. 

He couldn’t wear his armor now, even if it was wasn’t burned to shit, because he couldn’t heft the weight… His bad arm seemed to be giving him more trouble than usual. He actually felt rather useless. 

He was still working under the assumption that Shepard was alive because he couldn’t bear the thought that she wasn’t. He couldn’t go through that again. It was better that he died before he knew the truth if she was gone. He’d find Shepard at the bar, or find a chair and wait for her. Simple as that.

His calibrations would keep him busy until that happened, and he could at the least get the weapons back online. On the off chance that the Reapers weren’t gone, the crew would still have a fighting chance at survival.

A beep at his wrist reminded him of the evening meeting in the mess. Time had started to blur together in the dim light of the battery. He disconnected his oxygen tank and forced himself up from his chair. After the meeting, it would be time to tear into a ration bar and the thought made his stomach groan with impatience. 

He smoothed his tunic and headed into the mess. He was wearing a set of turian-styled military fatigues he’d picked up  on the Citadel just in case the Primarch required him for any kind of official meeting where armor was inappropriate. Although, after the Cerberus Coup, even Victus had started to wear his armor around the clock. 

Most of the crew had already assembled and, when two of the crewmen's ration bars disappeared into their pockets, he shook his head faintly. It was a nice gesture, but he needed them strong and he told them so when he moved to stand at the head of the mess table.  They were still missing the communications team and Liara, but he began the briefing without them. He’d told them if they got on a roll not to stop. 

Garrus’ voice was still rougher than usual, but his authority still rang out and the room quieted. “Adams, what do you have for us?”

The engineer stood from his chair and addressed the group, “The hull damage has been repaired enough for spaceflight. The engines need another few days while we separate EDI’s systems completely but the major damage has been fixed. We are almost there. At this point, the more tech experts we get, the quicker we can finish.”

“Understood, as soon as communications are up, you will have access to half of Traynor’s team.” Garrus turned to Jeff. “How about navigation?”

“Going surprisingly well, actually. Even if I tell you, you won’t believe where we are…”

Garrus sighed, but it was Campbell who gave Joker a little shove and told him to “Spit it out already!”

Joker batted her hand away. “Hey, watch the arm! We’re back where this whole thing began. Eden Prime.”

All of the humans gasped. There were murmurs of ‘we’re saved!’ and ‘why haven’t they found us already?’ and ‘my brother lives here!’ It took a loud whistle from the good doctor to quiet everyone down.

“Jeff, where on Eden Prime are we?” She prompted.

“Yeah, that’s the problem…” He pushed his hat down over his eyes. “We are in the southern hemisphere. The main colony is in the north. Pre-war, they had a population of just over 4 million. As far as I know, they weren’t hit by the Reapers, but Cerberus wasn’t exactly welcoming when we showed up to pick up our prothean buddy over there.”

Javik replied with his usual ‘humph’ noise before starting to say something about back in his cycle. He stopped abruptly after the word  _ cycle,  _ realising, maybe for the first time, that this was his cycle now. One without Reapers. “Maybe you aren’t so primitive after all.”

All Garrus could do was shake his head; maybe they had a little luck left after all. Just when things didn’t seem like they could get any better, Liara burst into the room from her quarters. “We’ve got something!” 

Garrus was on his feet and across the room in seconds, breathing laboured by the time he entered her quarters. The rest of the crew was on his heels, all crowding around outside her door. 

Traynor was at the main computer console with a set of headphones on. “All stations, all stations this is  _ Normandy _ . I say again, all stations, all stations, this is the  _ Normandy _ . Does anyone copy?” She suddenly perked up. “ _ Benjamin Davis _ , this is the  _ Normandy _ . Do you copy?” She waited a few beats before trying again. “ _ Benjamin Davis _ , this is the  _ Normandy _ . Respond!” She slammed her hands against the desk and shouted an expletive.  _ “BEN DAVIS _ ! DO YOU COPY?!” She was all but yelling into the microphone now. “Bloody hell!” She rubbed her face with one hand and, with the other, she tried to adjust their frequency before trying again. “Come in, Benjamin Davis. Respond.”

She hit the speakers on, pulled the headphones back so they sat just behind her ears, and looked towards the others. “They can’t hear us for all the static. They know someone is trying to contact them but they can’t get the message. Damn it all.”

Garrus put a hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get them. Keep working on it.” He turned to the rest of the crew. “Now we know someone else is in orbit. We need to get airborne as soon as possible.” At that, everyone quickly dispersed to their duties. 

If only they had a shuttle, they could just go to the nearest colony, or at least get into orbit, and maybe even find the Alliance ship themselves. He took a long breath and headed back to his own post, a ration bar in hand. If he worked through the night, the weapons would at least fire if they were needed. He could calibrate them later, but, with basic firepower, he could swap to engines work instead. 

The ration didn’t sit well in his empty stomach, but it would keep him alive. He needed just a little more time. They were almost there.

-+-+-+-

The reunion between a krogan and his offspring was one to behold. It was rather touching even though it involved a headbutt, a little blood, and probably a decent scar if not for the invention of medi-gel. Tamara had arrived at the hospital less than an hour after leaving Decian’s apartment, only stopping long enough to have breakfast at the cafe. Aralakh’s transport was set to arrive less than fifteen minutes from when she arrived, so she waited outside the hospital, glued to her omnitool waiting for any updates.

The aircar landed right in front of the main doors with a C-Sec escort leading the way. They had barely started the landing procedure before the door flew open and she saw her father’s face scanning the crowd. He spotted the smiling, waving asari and nearly jumped out of the car while it was still twenty feet in the air, but a hand caught the back of his armor, forcing him to stay inside. When l they were just five feet up, he shoved the arm away and hopped down to the Presidium ground. “Tamara!” He shouted, charging across the small distance.

“Daddy!” she called back and allowed herself to be picked up and swung around. They both were laughing, and Tamara almost crying. After he placed her back on her feet, he gripped her shoulder in his hand. 

“My daughter,” he said with a smile. Without missing a beat she wound up and headbutted him straight on, the crack of skull against plate loud enough that the few spectators all winced. Trek shook his head. “What was that for?” he asked rubbing the sore spot.

“That’s for letting me think you were dead,” she replied matter of factly before pulling him into a hug. “And this is for coming back.”

The krogan that had kept Trek from jumping out of the aircar appeared, two other krogan flanking him. He laughed. “I like her. Reminds me of Shepard.”

Trek took a step back from Tamara and began introductions. “This is Urdnot Grunt. Leader of Aralakh. Grunt, this is Tamara, my daughter.”

“I know who she is!” The young krogan insisted. “Any youngling of my krantt may as well be a youngling of my own.” He held out his arm and Tamara took it in greeting. When they parted he turned towards the hospital. “Now, take me to my Battlemaster!” 

“Of course!” She said and led the krogan up to the doors. She entered the building with Trek but Grunt had stopped and turned to the other two squad members.

“Dagg, Felik, watch for trouble. Listen to the turians.” He pointed to their C-Sec escort. “They say kill and you call me, then do it. Got it?”

“Yeah.” Replied the red krogan, Dagg. 

“You got it, boss,” said the other, Felik, and chuckled. “Go see your Matriarch. We’ve got things out here.” Grunt headbutted him before he followed Tamara and Trek inside. 

As they passed through the halls, people parted for the odd looking trio. There weren’t too many krogan on the Citadel and two heavily armed ones weren’t exactly a typical sight. Tamara and Trek chatted about nothing as they made their way deeper into the hospital. 

As they waited for the elevator, Trek directed a question at his daughter. “Anything Grunt needs to know before we get there?”

She thought for a moment before responding, “The Commander isn’t in good shape. She’s been improving since they brought her in, but she is still in a coma. Once we get upstairs, you can sit with her, but she needs lots of rest to get better.” The krogan nodded and they stepped into the lift. “What did Felik mean by Matriarch?” 

Grunt had been silent since they’d entered the building, but now he spoke in a low tone. “Shepard is my krantt. She fought with me in my right of passage, and, together with her mate, we fought many battles, Rachni, and Reapers. Even killed a Maw once.” Tamara’s expression was awed. She’d heard stories through her father, but, now coming from Grunt himself, they actually sounded real. “I was a tank born. Shepard found me and released me. She offered me a reason to live and a good fight.”

The door to the elevator opened and they stepped out. Grunt led the way down the hall and Trek placed a hand on his daughter’s shoulder. “He needs some time, my girl. He’ll be ok.” She nodded and they moved to catch up with the Urdnot Commander. He was already at the door to the Commander’s room staring through the window.

Tamara stepped up to the asari C-Sec officer who greeted them. The officer explained that the doctor would be coming by within the hour, but they could sit with the Commander until then. Trek and Tamara stayed out in the hall while Grunt was let inside. They all had some catching up to do.

Grunt stepped inside the door and paused just a few paces in. This felt wrong. Down to his bones, this wasn’t right. His Battlemaster shouldn’t be injured like this, lying silent in a hospital smelling of antiseptic and blood. The tank had taught him to expect casualties in war, but never that one of them might be someone he cared for. He didn’t quite know how to react.

Even seeing some of his comrades perish in battle hadn’t been as difficult as seeing her lying there. He’d killed hundreds, maybe thousands in his short existence. For Shepard, for clan Urdnot, for the galaxy, he had ended life. He took a few more paces and when he reached the chair at her bedside he stopped, gloved hands gripping the metal.

“You’d better wake up soon, Shepard. If the Reapers couldn’t kill you then, sure as I’m krogan, a few bruises won’t either.” He sat heavily in the chair, elbows on his knees and hands intertwined. He waited like that for a long time….

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction Recommendation: Grunt centric little story. Felt like it was fitting this chapter, Mother's Tears by Logicalpremise  
> https://www.fanfiction.net/s/8044503/1/Mother-s-Tears


	3. Hit Softly

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a ship in orbit. The Normandy will have to do whatever it takes to make contact. Back on Earth someone new appears, and secrets are revealed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Fourth of July American readers!

Chapter 3 +-+-+

Another 4 days had passed, making it a total of 8 days of work and 9 since Earth. Hunger was starting to eat away at Garrus. He was halfway through his rations and they were no closer to getting off the surface. He’d become irritable and was prone to snapping at anyone who tried to talk to him. Because of this, he sequestered himself in the main battery again to complete work on the weapons. They, at least, were back in working order.

Adams still thought they were a day away from getting the engines online and Traynor was sure that she could get the coms back, too, but it was taking much longer than expected. The problem was one they had been stuck on for three days, detangling EDI. 

Everyone was running on very little sleep and stress was at an all-time high.

So far the only good news they had was that the navigational equipment was back online, as were their scanners. They were able to determine that the Alliance carrier had stayed in orbit around the planet. The  _ SSV Benjamin Davis _ could support the  _ Normandy’s  _ repairs and crew if they could get into orbit. It all hinged on getting off the ground, and soon. 

His omni-tool pinged and slowly he rose from his chair. It was time for the evening meeting. Carefully, he headed down the hallway to the mess, his good hand reaching for the railing to get down the stairs. His cybernetically enhanced arm was getting worse by the day, fingers numb and, even with his pain medication, he could feel the ache. 

Garrus sat heavily into his chair at the head of the table. He’d remained standing for the first few days, but now any energy he could save, he did. Chakwas had been monitoring him closely with  twice daily checks in the medical bay and she wasn’t pleased with his progress. 

Yeoman Copeland appeared at his side a few moments after he sat down. She placed a ration bar and a cup of kava down on the table before sitting down beside him. “I checked on the Commander’s fish today. Someone has been feeding them, the VI is broken.”

Garrus turned to face her. “Who?”

“I’m not certain. Whoever it is has also been leaving seeds out for the hamster. The cage fell off the shelf in the crash and the little guy seems to be missing.” She smiled. “He’s still around here, somewhere, though. There are empty shells all over the floor.”

Garrus gave her a small smile. “Thank you for telling me. I wasn’t sure anyone had gone up there yet.” He took a sip of his kava. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“That ration bar was on the desk, it isn’t from your stores. I searched the ship today and managed to find an extra three. Doctor said you needed to eat a little more, so I was hoping this would help.” Garrus nodded and opened up the tasteless bar. She took a quick headcount as the doctor joined them. “Everyone’s here.”

The turian swallowed his mouthful and pocketed the remaining half of the bar. “Joker, we’ll start with you.”

“You got it, boss. Navigation and sensors are all still active and I think I’ve restored helm control. Won’t know for sure until we test it. I can check flight controls in the morning with a couple of crewmen outside relaying information back to me. Also, looks like the Ben Davis will be over us the day after tomorrow. They seem to have begun a standard search pattern.” He turned to Traynor. “Is there any way we can get their attention?”

“Uhm… we’ve been able to get a slightly clearer message out. They know we are on the planet and require assistance but not where or who we are. Our best chance to contact them will be when they are directly over us.”

Garrus hummed thoughtfully. “If we can’t talk to them or get up there, we are going to have to get them to notice us down here. Weapons are available. How would they react to a low energy burst?”

There was a wide range of reactions amongst the crew. Some quickly were behind the idea, wanting nothing more than to get off the planet and back home. Others were against it, saying they couldn’t just start shooting at an Alliance carrier because they could be damaged or they might just wipe the  _ Normandy  _ out with a few quick rounds. Most were stunned to silence. 

Garrus held up his hand. “Adams, how strong of a burst could their ablative armor handle if they didn’t have their shields up?”

Adams was on his feet in a second. “I wouldn’t go using the Thanix on them, but a volley from the rear turrets wouldn’t do much damage. If it comes to it, we have to act. They may very well not fly over this region more than once.” He moved to address the room. “If we can get their attention on this region then they’ll send fighters down to investigate. We can build some ground-to-air signals as well, let them know this ship still has members on board. My sister has been stationed on that ship for years, she’ll know what those signals mean.”

“It’s settled, then. Adams, can you draw out some signals for the team to build?” The engineer confirmed that he would. “We have less than 30 hours until they come into range. Let’s get this ship back in working order.” Garrus stopped to cough before continuing. “Doctor, anything to report?”

“We’ve managed to find some local flora to help supplement our stores. Other than that, nothing,” she responded. The doctor had taken the task of caring for the crew to heart. With Javik, Westmore, and Campbell as her team, they’d searched the region and found a fresh water supply to restore the ship to full capacity.

“That’s all for tonight, then. Get some sleep, everyone.” The crew dispersed and Garrus headed for the medical bay, Chakwas following closely behind him. When the door closed behind her, Garrus slumped down onto one of the beds. With a groan, he reached down and reattached an oxygen tube to his nose. He’d become quite proficient with the installation now. “I should be getting better by now,” he said to no one in particular.

The doctor stepped up beside him and began running her scans. “I don’t have the right equipment to treat you. The only reason I can do as much as I am is because we’ve got a full turian trauma kit on board.”

“We didn’t have one of those after Omega,” he pointed out darkly.

“But we did have the black market at our disposal and state of the art cybernetics on board to help deal with Shepard’s initial recovery. We have neither of those things this time,” she chided. She pulled out an old fashioned stethoscope and placed the listening device on his back. “Breathe in....”

He complied and then followed her instructions as best he could. When she stepped back he decided it was time to ask about his arm. It hadn’t gotten any better over the past few days, which was starting to concern him. If it became paralysed again, like after the Omega ordeal, then he honestly would be useless. “Can you check on my cybernetics doc? My right hand has been feeling a little numb.”

“Of course,” she said as she helped him pull his shirt off all the way. After a scan with her omni-tool, she had to grab another tool which she ran across the top of his plates. “Look at the doors for me. Now, tell me when you feel pressure.”

He complied and waited and waited but didn’t feel a thing. “Whenever you’re ready, Karin.”

She stepped away and back in front of the turian. “There’s a problem with your nerves, Garrus. I was applying pressure, you just couldn’t feel it.”

“Oh. That’s not good.”

“No, no it isn’t….”

-+-+-+

The state of affairs on Earth hadn’t changed drastically over the last few days. People were still dying of their injuries and going hungry. Infighting had begun in some regions over stores, land, and who fought the hardest in the war. The relays were still inactive, as were the Geth. Victus stared out of the window of the Multi-Species Committee's Headquarters. 

They were in the city of Ottawa, the capital of one of the planet’s largest countries. Apparently, Ottawa had been chosen as the capital hundreds of years ago for its strategic location away from an unstable country to the south. Even now, there was a great forest surrounding it and, though no more than an hour or two in a rapid transit vehicle away from other major urban centers, it wasn’t nearly as affected by the Reaper invasion as the other major cities. 

The Reapers had focused on urban centres with high density populations like London, New York, Paris, Shanghai, and Bombay. Vancouver had been hard hit on the west coast of Canada and the steel plants in the southernmost sections of the country had been all but flattened. The Reapers were strategists, of that they were certain. 

It seemed as though Ottawa was the perfect location for the committee since it was one of the largest untouched cities, and in a country that was prominent enough to host the System’s Alliance Headquarters on the opposing side, Vancouver. 

At least one thing was going right. 

He sighed before running a hand over his face. There was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Victus said, pushing himself off the chair he’d perched on. The door opened to admit his assistant and a familiar looking turian. 

“Sir, Castis Vakarian for you.” 

The senior Vakarian stepped forwards. “Primarch. It’s been a long time.” 

Victus excused his assistant with a quick wave of his hand. “It has. I didn’t think that you had made it to Earth.” The door shut behind the assistant. “Castis. It’s been years.” He stepped forwards and took the slightly older man’s arm, holding it fast like one would with a brother.

Castis gripped the Primarch’s arm back. “I’m too stubborn to die in a war. Adrien, you should know that.“ He smiled and they both sat when Victus gestured to the chairs. 

The turians had known each other from their initial service, Castis the other’s squad leader in basic because he was three years older. They’d been close ever since, even after duty had pulled them apart, Castis to C-Sec and Adrien into the First Contact War.

“When did you get here? How did you get here?” Victus asked.

Vakarian took a steadying breath. “Been on the planet about two days. We had just gotten through the relay the day the humans are calling the ‘Final Push’. We were en route to the Citadel when it was moved here to Sol, so, after deliberations with the crew, we rerouted here to drop off our able soldiers before heading to one of the outer colonies. As you can tell, we didn’t manage to get out of the system.” He got quiet for a moment before he trilled a calming note. “I heard about Tarquin.”

The Primarch’s head fell forwards and he thanked Castis for his condolences with one of his own. “We haven’t heard anything from Garrus yet. What about your daughter?”

“Solana was with me on the transport. She was injured as we evacuated Palaven. Thank the Spirits we have some useful doctors in the system, they’ve managed to save her leg.” He glanced out the window thoughtfully. “Never thought I’d have a reason to be thankful for the krogan… but they were the ones that got us out of there in one piece.”

Victus couldn’t stop his smile and he chuckled. “I agree with you. I was rather skeptical when Shepard told me that she planned to cure the genophage. Your boy didn’t seem too impressed with the idea either, but he convinced me it was for the best. I’m grateful that something good came of it at least.”

“Me too, my friend. Me too.” He leaned back in his chair. “Now, down to business, then. I’ve heard that you need a head of security until we get the relays back online. I’ve come to offer my services.”

Victus made a show of thinking about it before he nodded. “You couldn’t have come at a better time. Why is it you always get to be the one saving the day?”

“You’ve done more than your share, Adrien. Let me do what I do best. And it isn’t as though I am going anywhere. Not until the relays are fixed and my son is found.”

“You’ve done so much already. I don’t know how we could have done this without you and your boy.” Victus stood up. “We’ll find him. Of that, you can be certain. Until then, I’ve got the next closest thing, his bondmate.”

The second the words left the Primarch’s mouth he knew something was wrong… Castis’ eyes widened slightly and his mandibles twitched in uncharacteristic surprise. He took a moment to get his bearings. “His what?” he more breathed than said.

Adrien rubbed the back of his head sheepishly. “Whoops?”

+-+-+-

It was show time. 

The communications unit was as good as it was going to get without the ability to bring EDI back online and the engines would start with enough of a kick. Now all they had to do was get the Davis to notice them. Garrus sat in his chair in the main battery, hands poised on his weapons controls and ready to provide a firing solution. “Joker, time?”

The pilot’s voice came over his personal communications unit. “They’ll be in weapons range in T-minus ten… nine… eight…” Joker continued his count and the anticipation on the  _ Normandy  _ could be cut with a knife, it was so thick. “They’re in range. Liara, anything?”

Her frustrated tone was enough to make the turian flinch. “Nothing. Garrus, you’re up.”

“I have a solution. Firing.” The volley departing the rear turrets could be felt vibrating through the ship. “Contact?”

“Contact!” Yelled Joker, a little too loudly. “You got them, boss, now let’s just hope they don’t decide to bomb us from orbit…”

Relief swept through Garrus. The  _ Davis  _ now knew someone was on the surface. They had a shot at rescue. “Adams, how’s the engine?”

“She’s ready when we are. Let’s hope we don’t need her quite yet, though. I’d like to get another day of repairs into her first if we can,” he replied. “Did it work?”

“We made contact, now it is up to them.”

“Understood, Engineering out.”

The silence was almost as unbearable as the anticipation. Five minutes after the initial volley, Joker’s voice sounded over the ship wide communications unit. “We’ve got fighters in atmo. Hold onto your boots!”

Garrus fidgeted in his chair. He wanted to be on the bridge right now, but he’d only been able to restore weapons systems in the battery for manual control. They needed him there to defend if the Ben Davis proved hostile. He keyed his com unit to Traynor’s frequency to listen in…

“Mayday, mayday, mayday, all stations, all stations, this is the SSV  _ Normandy _ . Emergency landing at coordinates 36.84° S, 174.73° E. Require immediate assistance. I say again, this is the  _ Normandy _ . We require assistance at coordinates, 36.84° S, 174.73° E. Mayday, Mayday, Mayday.” She was quiet for a full thirty seconds before repeating her message again.

After she completed her call she waited again, only this time there was a response. There was a little static, but, after nothing for days, the message came through clear as day, “ _ Normandy _ , this is Trident-4, we have you in sight.” Garrus slumped down in his chair. He could hear cheers in the mess hall.

Traynor sounded as though she might cry but she held it together. “Trident, this is  _ Normandy _ . We require immediate assistance to get back in the air. If you can arrange transport, our CO would like to request a meeting with yours.”

“You got it,  _ Normandy _ ! I’ll have the Captain send a transport down,” the female voice on the other side of the com replied. “Do you require immediate medical assistance? And can you give me a sitrep to relay to Command?”

“Negative on the medical, all personnel are stable. We have a crew of 27 on board, including 3 non-humans. Engines are nearly repaired, but we could use a boost to get us airborne. Communications are spotty at best. Helm control is online, as are weapons.”

“Check that,  _ Normandy _ . Shuttle’s ETA is ten minutes. Tridents will escort, so don’t shoot at us, ok?” 

Traynor laughed. “You got it Trident.  _ Normandy  _ out.” 

Joker’s voice came over the com next, usual snark included. “Paging all senior staff, paging all senior staff to the bridge. I say again folks, all senior staff to the bridge.” 

Garrus carefully stood up from his chair and detached his oxygen tank. He wasn’t about to go into uncharted territory carrying that thing around. When he reached the elevator, Chakwas was already waiting with Javik and they joined Adams in the lift. Liara was already in the cockpit with Traynor and Joker when they arrived. 

Liara passed Garrus Miranda’s old breather unit with a few adjustments made. “Just in case,” she said.

He took it and attached the unit into his belt. “Thanks.” He cleared his throat and addressed the small crowd. “I think it best that we take a standard squad of three. Adams, I need your expertise but the other slot is open.”

Liara was about to volunteer when the other doctor stepped up. “I’ll go with you. After Adams, I am the most senior Alliance Officer on the ship, and I don’t think it would hurt our cause to be able to provide medical support if they need it.”

Garrus merely nodded and turned his attention to Joker’s view screen. His good hand unconsciously checking over his service pistol in typical pre-mission fashion. To say he missed the familiar weight of his sniper rifle and the press of his armor on his plates was an understatement. This was the longest he’d been out of armor since his stay on Palaven during Shepard’s incarceration. 

Joker turned his head to look at the crew. “Incoming shuttle. You’ve got 2 minutes.”

“Alright. This is what we’ve been working for. Priorities are getting us back in the air so we can get back to Earth and ensuring that we have enough supplies for the journey. Liara, you have the ship. Keep doing as much work as you can while we are gone. I want to get off this rock.”

“Of course,” Liara replied. “Be safe up there.”

Garrus nodded and led the trio into the airlock. The secondary doors closed and the ship began equalizing the pressure. By the time the cycle finished the transport shuttle was just landing outside. Their door opened and they stepped out onto the planet, the warm breeze after being sequestered in the battery for so many days on end feeling strange.

When the shuttle finished its landing procedure, the doors opened to three fully kitted Alliance marines. They trained their weapons on the  _ Normandy  _ crew. “We were told to expect the ship’s CO,” boomed the man in the middle. “Where is Commander Shepard?”

Garrus held his ground. “The Commander is still on Earth. I am her XO, Vakarian of the turian Hierarchy. This is Adams, chief engineer, and Chakwas, ship’s doctor.”

The marine looked between the newcomers as though he didn’t believe their story. All three marines jumped when a loud knocking sound was heard from the cockpit of their craft, the one nearest opened the door. “That’s my brother!” said a female voice from inside.

Adams took a few steps forwards. “Amy?” he asked tentatively.  

“Greg!” She yelled back and pushed her way past the marine. She hopped down to the ground and pulled the engineer into a tight hug. “I thought I’d never see you again!”

Adams held her close. “I’m right here.” There was a huge smiled plastered on his face by the time Garrus and Karin stood even with him again.

The marine looked at the happy siblings and reached up to remove his helmet. “Well then, I guess that’s all the confirmation we need. Come on aboard, we’ll get you to the Ben Davis.” 

The small group entered the shuttle and got comfortable. Adams sitting beside his sister near the cockpit and Garrus and Chakwas between the marines in the back. “Thank you,” said the doctor as one of the marines helped her into the shuttle.

“I guess introductions are in order?” He pointed to each crew member in succession. “You know Amy Adams, our navigator, and this is our pilot, Lt Paul Smith. Sergeant Kelly Judd is in the back, Sergeant Andrew Waldorf is on my right and I’m Chief Juergen Kuen.”

Garrus reached across the small space and shook his hand in the human fashion. “Good to meet you.” Chakwas followed his lead and did the same with the other marines who were nearer to her. “Do you have any information from Earth?”

“Negative, I’m just a gun they point and shoot. Captain Dell should be able to fill you in once we are aboard,” Jurgen replied. “Doctor, we may need your assistance in our medical bay. We had a number of wounded during the battle and our doc is having a rough go.”

“Of course.” She turned to him. “Do you have a full medical suite?” 

“We do, but it isn’t equipped to hold the number of critical patients we have. Do you have room in your medical bay? And, for that matter, is it functional?”

“It is. We have a full array of multi-species equipement. I know Alliance vessels can be lacking in that regard at times. Do you have other races aboard?”

He nodded. “You might just be what the doctor ordered. We have a full squad of asari commandos that need medical attention. Our doc, Reece? He’s been doing his best, but he just isn’t versed in their physiology.”

Garrus spoke up. “You’re in luck, then. Doctor Chakwas has put me back together more times than I can count. She’s dealt with all of the major council races, too.”

Karin smiled at his praise. “As long as you don’t have volus or hanar, I think we’ll manage just fine. The only pressing item we need is dextro compatible supplies.”

The marine looked from the doctor to the turian officer and back again. “I think we’ve got emergency rations, but that’s about it. We’ve made contact with the primary Eden Prime settlement. I’ll have someone send an envoy down to check for you.”

The turian merely nodded. “Whatever you can manage.”

The rest of the ride took place with quiet conversation and reflection. More than once, though, Garrus caught the Chief’s eyes on him, tracing the stark lines of his plates and the looseness of his clothing. Obviously, he hadn’t seen many turians this close before as it would be obvious to anyone who spent a lot of time around his kind that he was rail thin. Much too thin to be carrying around as much muscle as he did. He hadn’t been this skinny since Omega. Maybe not even then.

Each of his ration bars carried enough calories to sustain an average turian soldier for half a day; two or three a day could keep one going for months, which is how he survived on Omega. But for someone his size, and considering the massive damage he was recovering from, one bar a day would kill him slowly. If the hunger didn’t drive him insane first, he’d have another three weeks at best. His body would eat away at every ounce of fat and burn through his muscle mass quickly. And that was praying that they found another source of nutrients.

They entered one of the carriers moorings and docked in a matter of minutes. Their pilot was swift and the crews accommodating. Obviously, there hadn’t been much going on aboard the ship other than repairs and search efforts as there was a decently sized contingent of Alliance troops waiting for them. Apparently, they weren’t pulling any punches. 

Chief Kuen stepped off the transport first with a smile on his face and his helmet under his arm. “Congratulations, Davis crew! We’ve found the  _ Normandy _ !” 

An eruption of cheers sounded through the docking bay and everyone relaxed. Relief at having been a part of finding such an important ship to the fleet was palatable as the  _ Normandy’s  _ crew stepped off the transport. With a quick whistle, someone in the back of the room managed to gain silence. “Captain on the deck!”

The entire room was immediately silent and those nearest the door came to attention to salute. Captain Dell crossed the open aisle and the Chief stood at attention in front of him. “Sir.” he saluted and the Captain accepted the greeting. They conversed quietly for half a minute before the Chief called the room to rest.

The Captain was a rather short man, a little plump in his old age, but the hard lines of a soldier still ran strong. He approached the  _ Normandy’s  _ small contingent and Garrus completed a turian salute which he accepted with a great smile. “Welcome to the  _ SSV Benjamin Davis _ , Advisor Vakarian. It’s a pleasure to meet the man responsible for turian support in this war. Doctor, Lieutenant,” he greeted the rest of the crew who returned his greeting with salutes of their own.

“Pleasure is mine, Captain. I apologize for the weapons burst. With long range communications out, that was our best option.” Garrus’ mandibles flared in a slight smile.

Dell smiled back. “Oh, you were careful enough to only hit the broadside. She’ll be alright. Now, if we could steal your Doctor and Engineer for a couple hours, we can call it even. We took our fair share of losses and could use some experience.”

“Of course. The  _ Normandy  _ crew is at your disposal, but the quicker we can get in orbit, the better.”

“Come with me to my ready room and we’ll discuss what your ship needs.” He gave a quick wave of the hand to the Chief who immediately started barking out orders. Adams and Chakwas were ushered away with the main bulk of the crew and, once the room was nearly empty, the three remaining men headed for the elevator. 

“Lost my Chief Engineer and two maintenance workers to a malfunction in our shielding power supply. I miss that woman more every damn day that’s we’re stuck here.” The Captain shook his head sadly. “That was why we had to pull back to the relay during the fighting. A Carrier’s no good if she can’t protect herself. Our second? He’s a genius when it comes to our engines, but he can’t lead the team worth shit.”

“Adams will whip them into shape in no time. He’s one of the best in the Alliance.” Garrus stopped a moment to cough, holding  it back up until now, but the strain was starting to get to him. He forced himself to continue. “The Chief mentioned you’ve got asari on board requiring medical attention? Doctor Chakwas is well versed in Xenobiology. I’m sure she’ll manage well here.”

Captain Dell turned to him as they entered the lift. “Nasty cough you’ve got there, Vakarian.” With a critical eye, he took in Garrus’ appearance, the old scars and the new. “How long’s it been since you ate?”

He was a little taken back. “Been on min rations for eleven days.” He rubbed a hand over the back of his fringe and sighed; this wasn’t what he needed right now. His nutritional requirements came after the welfare of the crew. 

Kuen looked between the men in confusion and then it clicked. “Wait… that’s why you need dextro supplies? Fuck, I’m sorry! Shit, I’ll go through the emergency rations right now.”

“Calm down, Juergen. He’s not going to keel over if it takes an hour. At least, I don’t think so?” He winked at the turian. The man seemed to understand turians well enough to appreciate the slight flutter of amusement in his mandible. 

The elevator doors opened onto the CIC and Dell led the way, waving his second in command into the ready room with him. Jurgen stayed back in the elevator and descended back down into the depths of the ship. He was muttering something about  _ stubborn turians _ and  _ no one starving to death on his watch _ .

The Captain took a seat on the couch and gestured for Garrus and his second in command to sit as well. She’d followed them in from the bridge and introduced herself as Commander Rebecca Tuer. Instead of sitting immediately, she fetched a pot of coffee from the warmer on the sideboard and a bottle of water for their guest.

“So Vakarian, can you give me a quick run down? For starters, where is Commander Shepard?”

He cleared his throat and began. “She’s still on Earth, as far as we know. The Commander ordered an evacuation for her ground team during the final push. The  _ Normandy  _ had to pull back to the relay to regroup. That’s when the Crucible fired and we entered the relay, apparently at the same time you did.”

He looked at the turian quizzically. “Why would she order that?”

Garrus turned his gaze to the ground for a moment,still ashamed that he’d been injured, but, when he looked up, he answered honestly, “I was on the ground team with the Commander. I was injured and couldn’t continue. So she called the  _ Normandy  _ for evac. She made sure we got on the ship then disappeared back into the fray.”

Dell’s eyes travelled over the most obvious scarring on the turian’s face and neck. The newest of his wounds were mostly covered by clothing or were internal, so the only thing to see was the old scars and newest burns on his plates. 

“Whatever the Commander did she must have done for a good reason. As far as we can tell, the mission was a success and the Reapers are no more. At least in this system. However, the relay is offline.”

“What?” He wasn’t quite able to hold in his surprise.

“You heard me correctly. Relay is down. Once our ship is combat ready, we’ll send our engineers over to check it out. But I doubt they’ll have much luck with it. They fix ships, not ancient technology.”

Garrus considered this for a moment. “I may not have a Prothean engineer, but I might have the next best thing….”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can just imagine the slack mandibles after that conversation between Adrien and Castis. I think he took it rather well though, don't you?
> 
> Fanfiction recommendation: Almost Doesn't Count by 11_Gadget_27 . http://archiveofourown.org/works/1293601 . Nihlus/Saren.


	4. Hibernation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More of the squad starts to come out of the woodwork. As do more family members.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Realized I had yet to link the main event from my Beta's Parable series! Shame on me, you all need to read it! Linked in the end notes.

Chapter 4 +-+-+-

The days all started to string together for Tamara. The day her father arrived, they’d been assigned quarters in a nearby apartment building with the small contingent from Aralakh. They would spend the nights there and the days at the hospital, and she’d seen much less of Decian since they showed up. Apparently, now that she had someone watching over her, he didn’t need to come by so often.

Grunt mostly stayed in Shepard’s room, leaving only when Tamara and Trek were there to guard the Commander. Originally, the doctors had tried to force him out after visiting hours, but an angry krogan wasn’t something that they were quite prepared to deal with. After a short chat, the Executor managed to secure him clearance to stay around the clock. The tankborn was even given a cot to sleep on in her room as required.

Each day seemed to bring new triumphs, challenges, losses, and gains. It took a full week before communications were reestablished with the other homeworlds through the QEC devices in the ambassadors’ offices. The entire galaxy had taken a beating with no one world untouched. Surprisingly enough, the turians were pleased with the outcome as their projections had been much worse.

The Commander’s injuries were healing nicely according to her doctors, but it was a slow process. She hadn’t woken up yet either, and  Grunt seemed adamant about someone finding a human named  _ Lawson _ . Whoever that person was, they could bring her back faster than any of her current doctors. Huerta’s staff disagreed.

She and Trek had just arrived to the hospital on the eighth day after the Final Push. Thanks to the miracle of medigel and the ingenuity of the doctors, the halls were no longer quite so crowded. Anyone who was healthy enough was sent to a nearby hotel turned medical facility. Grunt was, as per usual, sitting in his chair beside the Commander, though, this time, it looked like he was dozing off.

Tamara quietly opened the door and Grunt didn’t stir, perhaps closer to asleep than she’d originally thought. Trek followed her through the door in his usual loud manner and the young asari turned to make sure he at least closed the door quietly. “Dad!” she whispered, “Shhh.”

When she turned around, though, she had a faceful of pistol and she screamed. Grunt was on his feet in seconds and their two C-Sec guards burst through the doors, weapons drawn. 

“Don’t move,” said the purple clad human. Trek had been about to rush the woman, but he stopped in his tracks. Anyone with a gun to his daughter’s head had complete control over him. 

Grunt quickly assessed the situation and, in a move that was quite surprising to the rest of the room’s members, laughed. “I was wondering how long it would be before someone else showed up. Didn’t expect it to be you first, though.”

“Likewise, Grunt,” she replied without moving the weapon. “You know these two?”

“Silly thief, think I’d let anyone I don’t trust in here?”

She lowered the pistol but didn’t put it away. “I got in here didn’t I?” The krogan growled an affirmative followed by something along the lines of  _ you don’t count _ . Kasumi holstered her pistol. “Just call me Allison. I’m one of the Commander’s... associates.”

Grunt waved the guards back outside and completed introductions. He’d gotten much more diplomatic since he began working with Aralakh. It was mostly Shepard’s influence, but Wrex wasn’t a bad teacher either. 

Apparently, Kasumi had already been there a solid hour watching the Commander and her old charge sleep. She walked up to the bed and brushed a few pieces of loose hair out of Shepard’s face. “Mind if I steal Grunt, here, for a little while?” Her question was directed at the newcomers, although she looked only to the younger Urdnot.

Grunt took the hint. “Yeah. They’ll be fine. I need to stretch my legs anyways.” With a quick, last glance he led the way out of the hospital room. The odd pair passed through the halls without interruption and Grunt stopped at the reception desk to grab a special visitor’s pass for Kaumi. She rolled her eyes but took it anyways, just incase. 

Once they’d cleared the worst of the morning rush, they could talk. Kasumi stopped at a railing overlooking the Presidium and leaned against it. The location was rather exposed, but, at this point, she didn’t care to find something more secluded. 

“So, I’ve seen her charts. There hasn’t been much improvement beyond what a typical human would have. Her cybernetics aren’t working.”

Grunt sighed heavily and leaned in beside her. “I know. I keep telling them she needs the Cerberus Barbie, but the pyjacks won’t listen!”

Kasumi giggled at that. “Barbie? How do you even know what that is?” The krogan just glared at her. “Ahem… so we need Miranda?”

“Yeah. She fixed her last time, and she was dead then.”

“I’ll see what I can do. I’ve still got enough sources around. But I need you to get C-Sec looking too, discretely. We don’t know what kind of state she’s in either.” Kasumi nodded at Grunt. “Ok I’m off, then. My extranet address should be on your tool under Allison Gunn.”

“Yeah, was wondering where that came from.” Grunt had only looked away for a few seconds but when he looked back up Kasumi was gone. He shrugged and headed for the human embassy, needing to talk to Wrex and the most secure line of communication they had was the QEC.

The C-Sec staff didn’t give him any trouble as he entered the embassy. All of the QEC’s were being guarded heavily as they were the only reliable point of contact between the Sol System and the other homeworlds. 

Executor Chellick was in a meeting with Earth when he entered the office. The turian didn’t falter from his conversation, but he waved a hand to Grunt, letting him know he would just be a moment. Two figures were on the other side of the com, Wrex and a tall turian that looked eerily similar to his battlemaster’s mate. Although the markings were different, they were the same blue.

Wrex was talking about providing additional krogan support for help rebuilding on the Citadel as, thus far, they hadn’t sent any beyond Aralakh Company. The Executor seemed to be pleased with the arrangement, but Grunt was zoning out. All these peace talks were boring and he wanted something to kill or to be with Shepard, nothing else important to him. He perked back up when Wrex asked about the Commander.

“Yeah, she’s still unconscious but the doctors are hopeful.” Decian turned to Grunt and gestured that he should come over. “Urdnot Grunt was just with her. Grunt, have there been any changes to her condition?”

He lumbered over and stood beside Chellick. “No. The Battlemaster still sleeps. But I know what will help. Is this channel secure?” He eyed the tall turian, unsure if he should say anything in front of him.

Wrex replied, “Yeah. Go kid.”

“She needs the Cheerleader.” At Wrex’s confused expression he clarified, “Miranda. The problem is with her tech.”

The new turian broke his silence. “Who is this Miranda?”

“Ex-Cerberus,” replied the old korgan. “Head of the project that healed Shepard after her brush with death almost four years ago.”

Grunt narrowed his eyes in confusion, but broke off after he caught the slight head shake from the Urdnot leader. Apparently, the new turian didn’t need to know that Shepard had actually been killed and it took them 2 years to resurrect her. “Miranda Lawson. That’s her name. Don’t know her condition, so keep it quiet for now. Cerberus might still be after her.”

“I wasn’t aware that one could leave Cerberus?” said the older turian. 

“Not typically. But Shepard’ll make you do some crazy things.” Wrex chuckled and Grunt joined in, both thinking of all those good times. “Grunt, pass any information you have through Chellick.” He nodded to the Executor. “If she’s in the system, we will find her.”

“I’ll do that. Who are you anyways?” Grunt asked of the other turian.

“Vakarian. Castis Vakarian, to be precise. Head of Security on Earth. I believe you know my son, Garrus.” When the krogan nodded he continued, “I’m sending my daughter, Solana, to the Citadel for medical treatment and to help with the Commander. See to it she gets to Huerta safely?”

“Fine. But only because you’re family.”

Castis jerked back slightly at being called family by a krogan and Wrex tried to stifle his smile. “Talk soon, whelp. Take care of her.”

+-+-+-

The first place Kasumi headed was the one place she never expected to be again… the Spectre offices. It was easy enough to slip in, she’d done it before. This time it was different, though. 

This time, Jondam would actually see her. The salarian had been chasing her for years, quite the feat for a short lived species. He was in one of the offices when she arrived, speaking with a salarian in armor on vid-com. 

“Yes, Major, our priority lies with getting communications back online. Once that’s done, we can communicate with Surkesh and the rest of the homeworlds. The sooner we do that, the sooner we can get the relays online.”

“Understood. I’ll keep at it then. We just need to hold the line a little longer.” He looked a little grim, but the major seemed pleased with the order. “And things on the Citadel?”

Jondam paced away from the com and, when he turned, he stopped dead in his tracks. “Kirahee, I’ll call you back.” He cut the line and pulled his pistol out faster than the unveiled Kasumi would have expected. “You!” he shouted.

“Yes, me. Now put that away before you shoot something important.” He bristled, but didn’t put the weapon away. “I’m not here to work out our petty problems, Bau. I’m here for a mutual friend. I need your help to find someone.”

He lower the muzzle slightly. “Why come to me?”

“Because you’re the best tracker I’ve ever met. And I need the best.” She took a few more paces into the room and plugged a device into his computer. “There, now we can talk.”

The salarian relaxed and put his gun away. “Do we really need to keep up this charade?” He fell back into his chair. 

Kasumi took the one across from him. Their relationship was a strange one, but, ever since Bau met Shepard, the two of them had reached a mutual understanding. “Maybe not anymore.” 

“So, what’s the visit about? I thought I told you not to sneak into my office again.”

“This couldn’t wait. I need your help finding Miranda Lawson…”

He interrupted. “Lawson, I’ve heard that name before.”

“Yeah, she was the  _ Normandy’s  _ XO. Head of the project that brought Shepard back from the dead. And that’s why we need her. Shepard’s cybernetics aren't working. Aside from her, the only person who knows anything about them is the  _ Normandy’s  _ Doctor, Doctor Chakwas.”

“And the  _ Normandy’s  _ still missing, I take it?” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Alright, I’ll put out some feelers and get you as much information as I can. Since you don’t know where she is, I take it you need discretion?”

“That’s right. She’s on the run from Cerberus. She was one of the Illusive Man’s right hand men before she defected.” Kasumi pressed a few keys on her tool and sent an information package over to the Spectre. “That is everything I’ve got on her. Guard that information with your life, Bau. She wouldn’t want it shared, but we need to find her, for Shepard’s sake.”

“Understood, now get out of here before I change my mind.”

Kasumi smiled just before disappearing behind her cloak. “You enjoy the chase too much to catch me.”

The door slid open and his monitors came back online. Just like that, she was gone.

+-+-+-

Grunt grabbed something to eat before heading back to the hospital. He’d managed to catch enough sleep overnight to satisfy that requirement. He had very little to occupy his time besides watching over his Battlemaster Thus, he was finally rested enough. The war had taken a lot out of the young krogan with constant combat for weeks on end, only getting rest for a short length when he was injured after the battle with the rachni. 

His entire life thus far had been a great battle. He honestly couldn’t remember a time past the tank when he spent more than a week resting. On Tuchanka, during Shepard’s incarceration, he’d helped Wrex with the clans and became leader of a mighty company. He fought daily and trained when he wasn’t fighting. This rest was… different. Maybe even welcome. But Grunt couldn’t be sure.

He was inside the doors of the hospital when he noticed something was off. There was tension in the air. The receptionist was yelling at a female turian in a wheelchair who was yelling back just as furiously. Despite the fact she was sitting, she seemed taller than the asari behind the counter. The young Urdnot, curious, moved to intercept the C-Sec officer that had come to investigate. He let the two women argue.

“If I wasn’t supposed to be here, how would I know who you have in the VIP wing?” she shouted, uncaring of who overheard her at this point.

“Miss, you are mistaken!” The asari yelled, obviously holding some stronger language back. “If you don’t leave immediately, I’ll have security remove you.”

“I have clearance from the Spirits damned Primarch!”

The receptionist pressed a button and a security call came over the PA. Grunt decided he had waited long enough and walked up to the desk.

“There a problem here?” He asked.

“Oh, Mr Urdnot, I didn’t see you come in. Yes, this turian needs to be escorted from the premises.”

The newcomer’s eyes narrowed. “Urdnot Grunt?” she questioned.

He turned to look at her and noticed the same blue paint on her plates as had adorned her brother’s. “Yeah. You a Vakarian, too?”

She smiled in that distinctive turian way and nodded. “My father mentioned I should be on the lookout for you. I’m Solana, Solana Vakarian.”

The krogan sighed. “She’s with me. Turn off that damn PA, will you? She’ll need a security pass and a consult for her leg this afternoon.”

The asari was taken aback, but complied with his request. He was, afterall, in charge of the Commander’s security while she was in the hospital. The remaining Council and Executor had been clear, whatever the krogan says, goes. She arranged for a doctor and handed them a security pass in record time. 

When she was done, Grunt led the way to the elevator. The turian refused to be pushed in her chair, stating her arms were fine. The krogan laughed, she was just like her brother. Good. Once the elevator started moving, he stopped it between the floors. “There, now we can talk. Nowhere else in this damn place we can.”

“How did you know who I am?” she asked.

“Met your father earlier in the QEC. Told me to expect you. Didn’t think you’d be here so soon. The paint and attitude are a dead giveaway too.”

She smiled again, she did that a lot more than her brother. “I guess I should take that as a compliment, then. I don’t know much about what’s going on, other than the fact Commander Shepard is apparently my brother’s bondmate.” 

“Not sure what a bondmate is, but, yeah, they are together. My krantt. Guess that makes you Auntie Solana.” He laughed at her incredulous expression. “Your father made the same face, hehehe.”

“I’m going to have to let that sink in for a while. Solana is fine.” At his nod she continued. “So how is she?”

“Improving slowly. Still asleep. Not much else to tell. But know that even with you being family, I will kill you if you try to hurt her.”

“Not if Garrus gets to me first. You’ve got nothing to worry about, he might not have told me they were together, but now a lot more things make sense. He was always overprotective of her, and then her memory. I never expected they were together, though. It just didn’t occur to me.”

“Shepard has a way of doing that to people.” He hit the stop button again, the elevator rose up the last half floor and the door opened. “She’s with me,” he said to the C-Sec officers outside the door.

They stepped aside and Grunt led the way into the room. The room was larger than Solana was expecting considering the rest of the rooms were over capacity and this one was rather sparse. There was enough room for a half squad of turian Blackwatch, but in it were just three people. Another krogan and an asari were standing by the window chatting quietly, and Shepard lay asleep in her bed. The other visitors looked up when Grunt entered.

“This is Solana Vakarian, she’s family. Be nice, Trek. Solana, this is Tamara, the asari who found Shepard, and Trek, her father and a member of Aralakh.” 

Tamara smiled and walked over to greet the newcomer. “Nice to meet you. I wasn’t aware that the Commander had any more family.”

Solana took her arm in greeting and responded, “I wasn’t aware until yesterday either. My brother neglected to mention he’d bonded. And I’m still a little stunned that she’s human.”

“Well, battlemaster, this is Solana Vakarian,” Grunt said to the Commander. She didn’t stir but he didn’t seem to be fazed. “She’ll be staying here until your turian gets back.” He looked over his shoulder and beckoned her forwards. “Human doctor says talking will help, she might be able to hear us.”

Solana rolled forwards and stopped at the side of Shepard’s bed. The woman who looked larger than life on the vid screen and had stolen her brother away all those years ago didn’t look right laying in bed like this, burned and bruised and rail thin. If the youngest Vakarian was honest with herself at this moment, Shepard looked like her mother had right at the end. It wasn’t right at all. 

She schooled her expression, like she’d done so many times before with her mother. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you. I’ve heard too much without ever getting to see you face to face.” 

Tamara looked at her father and motioned towards the door. Trek nodded. “Grunt. We’ll leave you to get acquainted. Is there anything you need?”

He shook his massive head and descended into his chair. “I’m fine. See you later.”

“It was nice to meet you, Solana. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other.” The asari seemed to be keeping a strong face on, even being subjected to the Commander’s condition daily. 

“Likewise,” the turian responded. Once they’d departed, it was quiet in the Commander’s room for a time. Solana was the first to speak. “So Grunt… want to explain to me why you called me Auntie?”

The krogan turned his head to look at her, seeming to think about his answer for a minute before he was ready to speak. “Shepard is the closest thing to a mother I’ve ever known. I was a tank bred. Built to be the ultimate krogan by the great warlord Okeer. His imprinting failed, and I had no purpose. But Shepard took me out of the tank, gave me something to fight. Something to kill. A strong krantt to fight with.”

Solana tried her luck. “Sounds to me more like a Commander taking advantage of a strong warrior in a time of struggle.”

“Hmmm…” He considered it. “No. She could have been like that, but she cared. Took care of the things I needed, fussed over new scars, encouraged me to be more than I was. Shepard also brought me to Tuchanka and made sure I got accepted into clan Urdnot. Fought through the trials, even killed a thresher maw on foot to ensure I made it into the strongest clan.”

Her mouth hung open after the thresher comment. “Really?”

“Yes! It was a glorious battle.” He pulled back the shoulder pauldron of his armor to show the maw’s acid burn. “Got this near the end of the battle. Shepard hit the beast with her rocket launcher, and I charged to finish it off with my shotgun down it’s throat. It was a glorious battle!” Grunt had been so into his story that he was gesturing and had even stood up to make his points.

“That’s amazing!”

“It is! But that’s just how she is. My Battlemaster saved the galaxy three times, even the void can’t hold her. She will beat this, but now it is our turn to help.” He sat back down in his chair. “Our turn to make things right. There isn’t much we can do here, just take care of her as she sleeps. What needs to be done is work for when she wakes up. We need your brother.”

“I understand,” she replied in a sombre tone. “They haven’t found him, yet. The entire  _ Normandy  _ and her crew are still missing.”

“It will take time, but they are too stubborn to have died. Not now.”

“I hope you are right Grunt. I really do….” She paused a moment before bringing the subject back to the thresher maw. “Is that how Garrus got those scars? Thresher acid like you?”

“No, he had those scars when I met him.”

“When was that?”

The krogan had to think for a minute. “Almost 2 years ago. Shepard said it was a missile.”

“A WHAT!”

+-+-+-

Work was still going strong on the  _ Normandy _ . With additional help from the Davis crew, they’d managed to speed up the process exponentially. She’d been able to do a test lift off just ten days past the end of the war and would be space worthy by twelve. It was an interesting process, but it was made safer with the use of the Davis’ additional teams. They were able to perform testing procedures which made the entire set of repairs worth the extra time it was taking. As Joker put it. they would be  _ fighting fit _ . 

Upon the determination that they had the only live prothean and one of the galaxies leading prothean experts on board the  _ Normandy _ , there had been an uproar of support for the  _ Normandy  _ and her crew. They were treated like heroes even now as they worked to fix both ships and the relay. 

Captain Dell was an excellent commander. He treated his troops fairly and helped out where he could. He was a pilot by original trade and moved up the ranks into command during the First Contact War. His mind was built for tactics and strategy, which is why he and his crew had done so well during the Reaper War. 

His second, Rebecca Tuer, was less of a strategist and more of a doer. They made a great team. Dell said jump and she jumped, then checked in to make sure it was high enough. Under Rebecca’s firm hand, the  _ Normandy  _ crew managed to integrate well into the carrier’s community. She seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at the same time. No one ever knew quite where she was on the ship during the busy hours, but she always managed to appear exactly when she was needed.

Garrus spent a great deal of time with both the Captain and the Commander, his experience was valued and expertise well used. Whenever he wasn’t with them, he spent time working on the guns He’d managed to calibrate and correct the Thanix cannon within spec and had moved on to learn and work with the Davis’ guns. His skills were far beyond those of the remaining Davis engineers considering many had been pilots or navigators and were lost over the course of the war.

Doctor Chakwas was kept busy on the Davis as well, not bothering Garrus nearly as much as before. Although, she did manage to send Yeoman Copeland along a few times a day with an extra cup of kava or a ration bar when the time came. More food had been found and Chief Kuen had a team searching the remaining settlements for more on Eden Prime. 

It had been determined that if Garrus stayed on reduced rations, instead of starvation, he could survive for a full two months. Considering that a trip to the Sol system from Utopia would take a little over a week at FLT if they couldn’t get the relay up and running, he elected not take a full ration which would have reduced it to just six weeks. They could travel about 12 light years in a standard day, taking into account time to discharge the cores and gather more fuel, when the possibility arose they would be able to leave for Earth as soon as the  _ Normandy  _ was ready. 

Liara and Javik continued to work on the relay, as it would make the trip much quicker and safer than travelling at FTL through dark space. If they couldn’t get the relay online and send a successful test before the ship was ready, they would risk the trip instead. They had been making headway, but it likely wouldn’t be done fast enough. They didn’t even know if anyone was on the other end working to fix the relay, let alone if there were Reapers there.

All told, things were finally beginning to look up for the  _ Normandy  _ and her crew. They finally had some breathing room. There was an issue with breathing room though, it gave the crew space to think too. 

+-+-+-

It was the middle of the night cycle on the Citadel when they arrived. The hospital was their destination, which, considering the woman’s condition, was the perfect place. Although they were not heading there for her, rather for her greatest work. 

Kasumi had found Miranda. 

_ Battered and deep in hiding but alive, under the care of her sister’s family. Bau’s information had led to finding Oriana’s family in Northern Canada. It was a small fishing village in the province of Quebec, untouched by the Reapers for it’s distance from anything resembling a city made it an undesirable target. It also made it very difficult to get to. _

_ When Kasumi had received the information from Bau, she headed to Earth on the first shuttle. From there, she managed to get in contact with none other than Steve Cortez, the Normandy’s shuttle pilot. He and Lt. James Vega had been holed up together at an Alliance hospital in the heart of London. Though both injured, they jumped at the chance to get back in action and acquired a shuttle later the same day. Being part of the Normandy crew sure did have it’s perks.  _

_ The three humans left for the Northern territory that evening. Their small craft was able to stay mostly undetected and only needed to fuel once in Gander. The planet hadn’t really taken the time to reinstate travel restrictions and customs, so it was a breeze moving through the territories. By morning, they’d all taken a shift on the watch and gotten enough rest to make it through another day.  _

_ Upon arrival, it took a few hours to get information on where, specifically, Oriana’s family was. The townspeople only spoke an old earth dialect and not one of them had a functioning translator. Thankfully, it was close enough to the dialect that James used so frequently that, with a little muddling and some hand gestures, they were able to make the connection.  _

_ The sole law enforcement officer - an old mountie, complete with the red jacket - in the town was able to take Kasumi on horseback to the family’s new home an hour’s ride into the bush. The men stayed back with the shuttle, Cortez being unfit to ride on horseback and Vega being reluctant to leave him alone. Kasumi was able to take care of herself and knew Miranda personally, whereas Vega had only met her once. _

_ The ride went by quickly and quietly. The Mountie saying very little, as he didn’t speak English well and his French accent was rather strong. When they arrived at the house, there was an older gentleman outside stacking wood and, at their approach, he picked up the shotgun at near the shed. _

_ “Qui êtes-vous?” He asked, his voice stern.  _

_ The Mountie introduced himself and replied, “Nous sommes amis. Elle a besoin votre fille, Oriana.” _

_ “Pourquoi?” Kasumi may not have known exactly what they were saying, but she did know that the girl’s father wasn’t impressed with the sudden appearance.  _

_ She spoke up in common.“My name is Kasumi, I’m actually here for Miranda.” She held her hands up in front of her. “I need her help.” _

_ He took a few steps forwards. “Like hell you do!” His weapon was trained on her and, although she didn’t flinch, she was uncomfortable. At this range, that weapon would likely break her shields and kill her only method of transportation. “François reculez!” _

_ The other man backed his own horse off. “Calmez-vous monsieur!” _

_ Kasumi ignored him. “I am a friend. I’m not here to hurt her, I need her help with Project Lazarus. Tell her that and see what her response is. What can I do to reassure you?” _

_ He thought on it for a moment before responding. “Dismount, keep your hands where I can see them.” Kasumi did as asked and took a few steps back from her mount. Without looking away from her, he activated his omni-tool. “Oriana…” He paused for a moment. “Ask your sister if she knows anything about a Project Lazarus.” Another pause followed. The anticipation was thick in the air. “She asked who wants to know.” _

_ Kasumi dropped some of the tension from her shoulders, relief already setting in. “Allison Gunn, and tell her even Grunt is using her cheerleader nickname now.” _

_ He relayed the message and, very slowly, lowered his weapon as Oriana responded to him. He didn’t put the safety back on, she noticed, but it was a start. They followed through with a few more questions before he and Miranda were satisfied. She had to release more secrets than she would have liked, but if telling Miranda exactly how many sit-ups Jacob could do in one set helped her case, then she wasn’t above saying 187. _

_ Oriana’s father brought Kasumi to the girls shortly thereafter. From there, Miranda had been loaded onto Kasumi’s horse and the trio made their way back down to the village. She had been injured while taking out a Cerberus cell on Earth during the final push and had made her way here after that. With a few more advanced supplies, she would have been nearly healed up, but she rationed her medi-gel well and, thus, needed more time. Oriana was reluctant to let her sister go, but Miranda assured her that she would return when the time was right.  _

They took the main roads to Huerta. It was late enough that the general public were all sleeping and, with Vega leading the way, no one bothered them. They all wore civilian clothing and kept their weapons concealed. Kasumi’s security badge did come in handy at the hospital as no one questioned their entrance, even with the limping woman in tow. 

Once inside, they headed straight for the Commander’s room and the guards at the door called on Grunt to ensure that they were friendlies. The sleepy krogan greeted them warmly and ushered them in. He spoke in low tones and hushed them as they entered. A female turian, who they would later learn was Solana Vakarian, was asleep in a wheelchair by the window, a pillow propped under her fringe.

Miranda immediately grabbed the Commander’s chart and started to go over it while James guided her to the chair that Grunt had vacated and made her sit down. He’d been fussing over her since they left Earth. If Kasumi wasn’t mistaken, he was a little smitten with her. She acquiesced and sat down but waved him off afterwards, she had work to do.

“Can you fix her?” Grunt asked after a few minutes of silence. 

Without looking up from her datapad she replied, “I can and I will. But I’ll need some supplies.”

“Just give me a list,” replied Cortez from the Commander’s side. “I can get you whatever you need given enough time.” Kasumi nodded in agreement, although Miranda expected she wouldn’t use legal means to ensure it happened. 

“I’d like to do a full examination. If I could have the room, that would be best. Kasumi, I’ll need an extra set of hands.” The men understood her meaning and immediately started clearing out, Grunt moved to wake up Solana.

“Solana.” He shook her shoulder as gently as a krogan could. “Lawson needs to work.”

In a matter of seconds, the turian was awake and taking in her surroundings, more than a little surprised at the number of newcomers to the room. She shook off the sleep as quickly as one would expect any ex-military member to do. “Of course. Is everything alright?”

“It’s fine. Just got the help Shepard needs.” He turned to the rest of the team. “This is Solana Vakarian. Sol, this is Miranda, Kasumi, James, and Steve. They were all part of Shepard’s team.”

James held the door open for the rest of the squad as they exited, and Solana exchanged quick pleasantries with the human females before following the men out of the room. Once in the hall, they headed to the waiting room.

“So, Solana, was it?” asked the pilot once they had all settled down again. She nodded. “It’s nice to meet you, I’m Steve.” He held out his hand and the turian accepted his greeting.

“It’s a pleasure to meet more of the crew,” she responded taking James’ proffered shake as well. “Although, it was a little surprising to see all of you when I woke up. I’m usually not that deep a sleeper.”

The krogan sized man replied, “No worries. A war will do that to people. It’s great to meet you. I served with Scars for the past few months.”

“Scars?” She laughed. “Quite the original nickname.”

He shrugged. “I like to keep it simple. So, when did you get here?”

“A day and a half ago, my father sent me from Earth to help Grunt with the Commander. It looks like she’s in better hands now, though.” She wrung her hands in her lap. “I’m feeling a little useless, actually.”

Steve smiled at her as he relaxed into one of the waiting room chairs. “There is always a lot of waiting where the Commander is concerned. I was her shuttle pilot for the duration of the Reaper War, so I got used to it. Never gets less nerve wracking, though.”

James laughed. “Nope. Best thing to do is catch some zzz's. Like Grunt over there.” He gestured to the krogan who was out cold once again. “That or swap stories.”

Solana thought on it for a moment before responding, “Alright, stories it is. Maybe you guys can tell me what happened to my brother’s face.”

“The scars?” James asked and the turian nodded. “Lola, er… the Commander said it was a rocket. Scars doesn’t like to talk about it.” He shrugged. “I know it happened about two years back, before they took out the Collectors. Steve, thoughts?”

“Hm… yeah. It was right after Shepard came back, so would have had to be Omega then, right?”

The man snapped his fingers. “Right! That must be why the mercs think Archangel is dead.” Cortez seemed to agree wholeheartedly with Vega and they continued theorising and corroborating their story. 

When the news finally sunk in, Sol spoke up.“Whoa! Slow down a minute… Archangel. Like the Archangel of Omega is my brother?”

The men’s jaws dropped in sync and they slowly turned their heads to look at one another, together they replied, “Whoops….” It was comical how in synch they were.

“Spirits. I cannot believe it. My brother is Archangel. When he came home to convince the Primarch that the Reapers were coming, he refused to tell us where he’d been those years he was off the radar. Refused to tell my father and I where he got those scars. Damn it all Garrus…” She stopped when Vega put a hand on her shoulder.

“I apologize. We didn’t know. Hell, I only found out by accident. I guess he didn’t want to worry you guys.”

“More like he didn’t want to look any more insane than he already did.” She scoffed. “Showing up after barely hearing from him for years, his face half ruined with stories of giant sentient ships, indoctrination, and footage from beyond the Omega Four Relay. If he’d let his alternate identity be known, they might not have believed him. Damn, I doubt even I would have. A turian with a fucking deathwish isn’t the man the Hierarchy would want leading their troops.”

She paused a moment. Trying to gather her thoughts, it seemed, so the humans waited for her to continue. “Without Garrus, we wouldn’t have had any warning and would have been wiped out like the batarians. Everyone left in the Hierarchy owes their lives to my brother and Shepard and her team. Spirits… the whole galaxy does. Everything was on their shoulders, your shoulders, and you rose to the challenge. I just hope, for once, we can help them.”

Steve broke the silence. “I hope so too, Solana… I hope so too.”

+-+-+-

Tali sat at a desk in the middle of a large warehouse. Every inactive geth unit found was brought here and it was a hospital of sorts with many scientists and engineers milling about. It sounded more like a graveyard than a hospital, though, as the patients made nary a sound or movement. As far as the young admiral could tell, the Geth were all in some kind of standby mode. Any physical damage they’d sustained could be corrected, but they wouldn’t respond to any bit of code or stimulus. 

She was the lead on the Geth restoration team and they had made no progress whatsoever. With a frustrated huff, she stood up and slammed her hands against the metal table. “DAMN IT!” 

A salarian nearby jumped at her outburst and, with a sigh, Tali apologized. The Geth had become the quarian’s best allies, helping them rebuild on Rannoch and aiding in the war against the Reapers. Without that strong arm, they might not have held out during that final push, and they might not have been able to keep all three liveships, relatively, intact. She would not rest until they were brought back from the dead. She just hoped it was possible.

Taking her chair again, the young quarian pulled up a new program and started from scratch, yet again. She began to type out Legion’s matrix from memory. Another hour passed and no one dared bother her when she was typing so furiously that her fingers began to ache. It wasn’t until she shoved her chair back and it slammed into the floor behind her that everyone turned from their posts to see what was going on. 

“LEGION, YOU BOSH’TET! AHHGG!” she shouted at the screen. She looked like she was about the throw the monitor when a voice from the entryway stopped her.

Her aunt Rann was standing there, seemingly out of breath. “Tali! There is a priority message for you from the Citadel. Come quickly!” 

With her anger all but forgotten, she rushed for the doors and the two of them quickly headed for Alliance Headquarters. The streets of London were still grim, but it wasn’t far and, at a jog, they managed it in just five minutes as they stomped through the shallow puddles created by the near constant drizzle in the city. 

When they reached the elevator up to Hackett’s office, they had a moment to catch their breaths. “Did they tell you anything?” she asked.

“No, just that they needed you in person. They would not tell me anymore than that.”

She nodded. “Thank you, Auntie.” They stepped out and were greeted at the door by none other than Major Alenko. “Kaidan!” the quarian greeted warmly. “I’m so glad you’re alright. I mean, I knew you were alive but it’s nice to see you.”

He laughed and pulled her into a quick hug. “Nice to see you too, Tali. It feels a whole lot longer than two weeks, doesn’t it?” 

“Keelah, it feels like a year, but I guess you are right. It has only been that long since the final push. How’ve you been?” 

“Tired. But I’ll manage. Hackett tell you why we’re here?” He asked, turning towards the doors. She shook her head. “Well, let’s do this together, then.”

The doors opened to the Admiral standing by the window with his arms held firmly behind his back and a woman in standard alliance blues sitting in the chair opposite his desk with her back to the door. She turned and Tali quickly recognized her to be Jack, although a little worse for wear, it seemed.

“Bucket head and pretty boy! Been awhile, eh?” She carefully stood up, favoring her left leg. The biotic grabbed a cane from its place leaning on the desk and hobbled over to the pair.

Tali laughed and pulled her into a reluctant hug. “It’s nice to see you, too.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know I’m not one for all that mushy bullshit.” She pulled back and shook hands with Kaidan. “The kids are doing pretty well, Rodrigues wanted me to pass on a hello.” 

“Thanks, I hadn’t heard anything beyond the initial casualty report. They’re all healing up?”

She nodded. “Yeah. Still some broken bones to mend, but no one died, so we’ve got that going for us - which is nice. Anyway, the admiral wanted to wait until we were all here before we called the Primarch. He’s got news about the Commander.”

At that, Hackett turned and accepted the Major’s salute. “Just one more guest.” He looked at his watch. “Shouldn’t be long, now.” He strode to his desk and took a seat, gesturing to the other chairs for his guests.

They hadn’t been sitting a minute before Kaidan caught a shimmer to the left of the Admiral and he was immediately standing with his pistol drawn. “Show yourself!” he demanded. 

Seemingly from thin air, a figure appeared, Kasumi Goto. “Nice to see you too,” she said, smiling from under her cloak. “Tali, Jack, Admiral….” She nodded to him. “Good catch, Major. But you can put that away.”

“Kasumi, figures you’d sneak in instead of using the door like a normal person,” said Jack as she shook her head. Kaidan, having never met the thief, reluctantly put his weapon away and sat back down. If the others thought that she was a friendly, then she must be. “So, you going to deliver this news or what?”

Hackett clicked a few buttons on his terminal and the Primarch appeared as a glowing holo figure to the right of his desk, Wrex at his side. “Whenever you are ready, Ms. Goto.”

“I’ll skip the pleasantries and get right into it. We’ve found Miranda Lawson.” She ignored the reactions and continued, “Ms. Lawson was injured but stable and she’s already managed to start work on the Commander’s cybernetics. She determined they are repairable but hibernating.”

Tali interjected. “That sounds just like what’s happened to the Geth...”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction recommendation: Juxtaposed by squiggly_squid.  
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/2530214 . This one is a ridiculously long, and awesome, imagination of Garrus and Shepard's relationship through the games and afterwards. So much love.


	5. Progress?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Approaching the Sol system is harder than one might imagine, and not for the reasons you might think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good morning! Welcome to chapter 5. Thanks so much for continuing to read. Love seeing the comments roll in too! Tell me what you think. 
> 
> Thanks again to Squiggly_Squid for her beta work!

Chapter 5 +-+-+

Progress on Earth continued to be slow. Each day brought new problems and few solutions. The food situation was starting to resolve through rationing and advanced farming technology. It wouldn’t be sustainable for more than a few months, but it would be enough to send those able on their way home, if needed, by FTL.

Even if the relays couldn’t be repaired, the quarian fleet would be able to sustain the turian one until they got back to Palaven, then be sent a security detail with them to Rannoch. Another month, and repairs would be completed enough to allow for the long journey home if they didn’t manage to get the relays working in a timely fashion.

Travel was possible, just slow. Scouting ships had been sent out to each of the homeworlds and the first was expected arrive at its destination in just a week’s time. Communications were still out between systems, so, other than the QECs on the Citadel, they were completely cut off from the rest of the galaxy.

Everyone was still managing to work well together and in-fighting hadn’t set in yet. The leaders were still hoping to avoid it further for as long as possible.

Wrex had spread his krogan thin because  keeping their numbers small helped keep them from getting too frustrated. They, more than anyone, wanted to get home. They had women to impregnate and numbers to increase. The heavy labour helped quell their urges as they cleaned streets and loaded dead Reaper parts onto transports bound for the sun, it was a clean solution.

Victus had the turians working in conjunction with krogan teams. Considering how much the krogan had helped on Palaven, the general attitude of the turian people was very positive. The krogan, for their part, were in good spirits considering that the turian alliance was the reason for ridding themselves of the genophage.

It wouldn’t be too long before things started to get tense,though, and the goal right now was to make as much progress as possible before that happened. Maybe even avoid it entirely.

The multi-species committee was working smoother than Victus had expected, but he imagined that was due to the strong leadership and military background of its members. So far, civilian politicians hadn’t been allowed in. The Alliance was heading most of the efforts on Earth, but they relinquished control of the command to the committee considering the large number of aliens still in the system. Victus headed the committee without much complaint, as they were the only ones with a post-war plan. And that was key right now.

+-+-+-

Garrus headed back to the _Normandy_ after his meeting with Captain Dell. They would be leaving the system in just a few hours. It had been a long two weeks, but they had finished repairs on both the _Normandy_ and _Benjamin Davis_. Both ships were discharging their cores before they hit darkspace, the engines had passed their tests, and the weapons were ready to be used if required. The Thanix cannon was running at full strength in the unlikely event that they encountered Reaper forces and the Ben Davis had enough of her fighters repaired that it wouldn’t be completely out of luck.

The turian stepped off of the borrowed shuttle to find Doctor Chakwas waiting for him. She had transferred all of the injured asari onboard the previous day, as it was determined that each ship should have its doctor and she was better versed in asari biology than the Davis’ doctor. Her mouth was downcast in a grim line. That couldn’t be good.

“Doc, what can I do for you?” he asked as they headed for the elevator.

She took a moment but found her words as the lift arrived. “I overlooked something, Garrus.”

He turned to her. “Mistakes happen. We’ve all been under a lot of stress these past few… ah… years?” He shrugged with a single arm as had become habit after his encounter with the rocket. “Is it mission critical?”

The doctor nodded. “It’s our supplies. We’re going to run out of dextro compatible medication before we hit Earth.”

Garrus thought it over for a moment. “I don’t see what that has to do with the mission, Karin. We’re only eight days out, I’m not going to starve, and that isn’t really long enough for infection to set in if I keep the open sores covered…”

“It’s not the antibiotics,” she interrupted. “We’ll run out of pain killers tomorrow at the rate you’ve been taking them. I checked the emergency supplies as well, but they don’t have anything near the same dosage.” She shook her head. “I’m so sorry, Garrus. If I’d paid a little more attention, we could have rationed them as well.”

He took a deep breath to settle himself as they stepped out on the crew deck and headed for the battery. When the door closed behind them he turned back to the doctor. “What are we looking at here? Withdrawal or just pain?”

“Both,” she said honestly. “You haven’t been feeling the lung damage because of the medication, just been suffering the ill effects the smoke inhalation caused to your breathing. I put you on a high dosage of Dextratophine like I did after Omega and, at the rate you’ve been taking the pill form, you’ve been medicating about the same amount. It won’t be pleasant, Garrus.”

“Fuck,” he swore loudly. He paced from one end to the other twice before getting himself under control and his thoughts in order. “I’ll go off them now, then. I’ll need them before we hit Earth. I’ll go talk to Liara and Adams, they are going to need to keep the ship under control and work with Dell…”

“Garrus, slow down,” she interrupted him again. “You could reduce your usage, get another two days out of them instead of going off them completely. I’m sure you remember how bad the withdrawal from this medication is when done slowly, let alone cold.”

“No. We don’t know what we’re going to run into out there. I need to be ready for the eventuality that we’ll need weapons enroute or, at the very least, that, if there is anyone left, you’ll need me once we hit Sol. We have stims still? Medigel?” Chakwas nodded. “Then if we hit resistance, you call me down from the Commander’s cabin. Otherwise, I sequester myself there. Everything I need is up there. I’m only coming off the pills this time, not the stims, too. It shouldn’t be as bad.”

“Alright. I’d like to start you on fluids soon, then. It will be a rough night and we should do whatever we can to make it smoother.”

“Understood, I’ll go speak with the others, then, and meet you in the loft in two hours or so.” He headed for the doors, but stopped before he palmed the lock. “That medication got me through the worst of it, Karin. I’ll survive this, I have to. I have to know.”

He didn’t wait for her response and left the battery. Copeland was just leaving Liara’s office and he asked her to fetch Adams for him. It was easier than going down himself, and also gave him and Liara a few minutes alone.

“Liara,” he greeted as he entered through the still open door. “Have a few minutes to talk?”

She turned in her chair. “Of course. Have a seat.” She gestured to the empty chair beside her with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

“I need you to take command of the _Normandy_ until we hit the Sol system.” The asari nodded slowly, but the look on her face questioned him. “I’m going to be out of commission for a few days. If we encounter resistance enroute, then I’ll make myself available to handle the Thanix. Otherwise, I’m out until we hit communications range.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked honestly, but he shook his head, then seemed to think for a minute before he opened up and told her the full story. That he was out of drugs and would be going through a nasty hangover of sorts.

“I don’t need the whole crew knowing. Their morale is high right now and I don’t want to ruin it. I’ll head up to the loft and Chakwas is going to have Copeland monitor me. It’s not like I need the kitchen for anything, so everything I need will be up there. I should be able to answer messages the day after tomorrow, maybe sooner.”

There was a knock at the door and Adams entered. Garrus gave him the short version and discussed everything that they needed to know in the interim. It wasn’t much of a briefing, but, together, they could handle anything that the ship threw at them. Especially considering that, in the event of a combat emergency, they could call him down. He’d be high on stimulants, but they didn’t need to know that little detail. He’d hidden his addiction for weeks the first time, this would be no different.

Garrus just hoped they got to Earth on schedule. That there was even an Earth to go back to.

+-+-+-+-

Captain Dell shut off his viewscreen after discussing the situation with Vakarian. Apparently, he was going to be down another senior officer for the journey. That was never a good sign. He knew the turian was getting run down, he had worked with turians on the Crucible project and, prior to that, when he’d served with the Citadel Defense Force after the battle of the Citadel. The human just hadn’t expected to lose his best weapons specialist.

Vakarian had managed to calibrate the _Benjamin Davis_ ’ weapons systems back within specification within two days. Considering they’d lost many of their Gunnery Officers in the war, that was much quicker than anyone remaining on his ship would have been able to complete the task. Hell, even keeping them in check was a big job, let alone performing the scope of work he had in just days.

There was a soft knock on his ready room door and he called whoever it was in. “Come,” he said turning to face the entryway. “Ah, Chief Kuen. Nice to see you.”

“Sir,” he greeted as he stepped into the room with a salute. Juergen placed a datapad on the Captain’s desk. “Our readiness report, sir. We’re ready and standing by with a full squad of fighters and three marine infiltration teams if required while enroute. Everyone is aware of their shift and on call duties.”

“Excellent. I want one defense team moved to the _Normandy_ before departure.”

“Sir?” he questioned.

“You heard me, we need a team there as well. They are down a man and I don’t want anything happening to that ship. Escorting and ensuring the safety of the Normandy is our top priority, I will sacrifice every fighter we’ve got to make sure they reach Sol safe and sound.”

“Of course, sir. I just meant that Advisor Vakarian said they had enough firepower to fend off a boarding party. Is everyone alright?” Kuen backpedaled quickly.  

He shook his head. “No, Vakarian isn’t. He needs a medical procedure. So, except in the case of a combat emergency, he’s out of commission until we reach Sol. I have a strong feeling that the doctor would prefer he not be needed for shipboard combat during his recovery and Vakarian finally agreed to me sending a squad over.

“He’s stubborn, but I expect this was a long time coming. Now that we finally have the breathing room for Doctor Chakwas to work, we should give them some reassurance. The turian hierarchy is going to want Vakarian back in one piece even more than the Alliance wants her ship back.”

The Chief nodded. “Understood, Captain. I’ll lead the damned team myself if that’s what it takes.”

“Actually, that’s a great idea. You’ve got yourself a new task. You’re Vakarian’s security detail. He’s not going to like it, but I’m not letting anything happen to that turian, and you’re going to make sure of that!”

“You got it, Captain!”

+-+-+-

It was slow, but the sound started getting a little louder, from not more than a faraway breeze to a near whisper. Next to register was light, or lack of it at first. Then it started to get brighter. An inhale, clear air hitting her lungs. The fuzzy feeling of too many drugs in her system came next. Then suddenly awareness.

Jane Shepard was alive!

Groggily, she dragged her eyes open to find the source of the whispers above her, and it was harder than she remembered it being. Like her eyelids were made of lead. Slowly, the words became understandable and her eyes adjusted to the light.

“...ard to explain. I’m not an MD, but I am Shepard’s doctor.”

She’s been dead, or nearly so, twice and it figures she would wake up to Miranda over her again. What were the chances? She couldn’t stop the slight smile, or the half chuckle, half wheeze.

Her voice was hoarse when she spoke, but it immediately garnered the attention of the room. “We need to stop meeting like this.”

“Shepard!” the ex-Cerberus operative exclaimed. Which was followed by a gasp from the other occupant of the room, an asari that Shepard didn’t know. “How are you feeling?”

The Commander winced at the volume and ignored the question. “Did we win?”

Miranda smiled. “We did, Shepard. You did it. They’re gone. I need you to look at me...”

“Oh good,” mumbled the Commander.

Lawson shone a light into Shepard’s left eye, followed by her right and beyond a flinch and a slight moan of discomfort, she did as asked. “Very good, Commander. Do you know who I am?”

The Commander narrowed her eyes. “Miranda Lawson.”

“Good, that’s really good. Just breathe for me, now. I’m fixing your cybernetics, so you need to sleep some more, ok?” she said as she began to administer a sedative. “You need to remain still.”

“Wait… don’t want to sleep, yet. Need answers.” She was already starting to fade back to darkness as the sedative Miranda injected into her arm went to work.

“Just relax, Shepard, your body needs time to recover.”

“Where’s Gar…” Before she finished her sentence, she was fast asleep again.

It was a good sign that she woke up, a great sign even. But, now, Miranda was going to have a rough time keeping her unconscious so her body could heal and her cybernetics could merge fully into her system again.

It hadn’t even taken a minute of consciousness for her to ask about her partner. That was a good and bad sign as well. Good, because she retained her memories - at least the important ones - but bad, as they still had no word from the _Normandy_.

“Who was she asking for?” Tamara asked the human woman.

Miranda shook herself out of her thoughts. “She was asking for a crewmate. Her best friend, really, Garrus Vakarian.” The Operative wasn’t sure how much of the story the asari knew, so she kept it vague.

“Oh, yes. Solana’s brother. I met her earlier.” She smiled knowingly. “Maybe more than a best friend, considering his sister is here to take care of her.”

She surprised herself by laughing. “Ok. Maybe you are better informed than I thought.”

“Well, I have been here to watch this all unfold. Decian asked…” At Miranda’s raised eyebrow, she clarified. “Executor Chellick asked me to watch out for the Commander, until her friends were able to get here, at least. Said she needed a friendly face with all the doctors around. No offense,” she added quickly.

“None taken. The Commander and I are… friendly, but she still has some reservations about me. It comes with the territory of being the person who brought her back from the brink of death the first time. I’m sure you heard of her two year disappearance?” At Tamara’s nod, she continued. “Well, I was the lead on that team. I know more about her than anyone. Physiologically speaking and about her history. My mission was to bring her back as the woman she was and I spared no detail.”

“That’s a miracle,” the asari said with her eyes a little wide.

“No, just a lot of credits and luck.”

+-+-+-+-

Miranda ran her hand through her short black hair, her long locks having been chopped off so she could handle a nasty head wound she’d received in the final push. The Ex-Operative was about the address the multi-species council to explain what had happened to Shepard and possibly help unlock the problem with the Geth. To say she was a little anxious would be an understatement. She had spent the last ten years in the shadows with Cerberus. Even before that, she had been in the shadow of her father. Speaking didn’t make her uncomfortable, but the public did.

Thankfully, they had agreed to a conference over the QEC, otherwise, she’d have had to go back to the planet and that would take too much time. Executor Chellick had escorted her to the human embassy himself and the asari Tamara was also in tow, but she expected the latter wouldn’t be taking part in the conversation, that she was just here to see the turian.

When the Citadel end of the QEC connected, the others were already present. Admirals Hackett and Zorah, Primarch Victus with a turian that must have been Garrus’ father, and Urdnot Wrex. She had expected the full multi-species council, but was thankful that they had agreed to her request for discretion.

“Ms. Lawson,” Admiral Hackett greeted. “I am sure we can skip the pleasantries. What can you tell us?”

She nodded, easily accepting that this was not a social call but a busy part of everyone’s day. “I have some good news, Admiral. Earlier today, the Commander regained consciousness for a few minutes.” The ex-operative waited for the surprised and happy noises to cease before she continued. “I would like to keep her sedated for a few more days until her cybernetics can fully reintegrate into her system.

“I believe that the Crucible caused the malfunction. Whatever Shepard did up here, whatever that red light was, it seems to have affected anything that was using Reaper coding or systems built from Reaper technology. The Commander’s cybernetics were partially based off of parts from the first Reaper to hit the system, Sovereign.” She paused to give the information a moment to sink in. “Since installing Shepard’s cybernetics, I completed a number of adjustments and repairs. Each of those bringing them further away from the original technology used to create them.”

Tali interjected. “So the Geth’s problem is that they have next to no separation from the Reaper code?”

The human nodded. “That’s correct. I believe, with time, the code can be separated. I’ll send my findings from Shepard to you once I’ve drafted my report.”

“Does she remember anything?” Hackett asked.

“She seems to have kept her major memories intact, Admiral. She knew who I was, asked if we won the war, where her friends were.” The human closed her eyes a moment before asking Shepard’s burning question herself, “Do we have any word from the _Normandy_ yet?”

Hackett sighed and shook his head once. Victus took up the slack in the conversation. “We know they were intact when they entered the relay, but that is all the information we have at the moment. Once the relays are repaired, finding the _Normandy_ will be our top priority.”

“As if that will help.” Tali scoffed a little louder than she intended. When all eyes turned to her, she elaborated. “It’s already been weeks since the ship went missing. Even if they survived, they’ll be dealing with a skeleton crew and low supplies. If my calculations are correct, which they are, unless they’ve found a way to restock, Garrus will be starving to death as we speak.”

The senior Vakarian bristled at this, but kept calm outward appearance. “What are you implying, Admiral?”

Her head swivelled to focus on the elder. “When we were last on the Citadel, we traded some dextro compatible supplies for levo ones. With just Garrus and myself onboard, there was no point hoarding three months worth when we were regularly at major ports. We offloaded until we had enough for a little over two weeks for the two of us. That was nearly a month ago, and I was there for one of those weeks. Even eating my rations...” She trailed off.

Victus swore loudly, it was unexpected from him but well warranted. “On starvation rations, they’d last maybe two more weeks instead of one. He isn’t stupid, he’d go to starvation the moment he realised it.”

Hackett broke his train of thought. “What about the levo rations?”

“They had enough to last the full complement, including the biotics, two months. They should be fine from that standpoint for a while still considering James, Kaidan and the Commander disembarked.”

Miranda cut back into the conversation. “Now that the Commander is on the road to recovery, I won’t be able to keep her fully sedated for more than a few days. Her metabolism, combined with her cybernetics, breakdown sedatives in no time at all. She’ll need a lot of rest, but I expect, in a day or so, she’ll be able to be awake long enough to demand answers.”

Wrex nodded in agreement. “She’s going to ask for them. Lying to her isn’t going to work.”

“Shepard would hate it if we kept the truth from her, but I believe it would inhibit her recovery should she learn that the majority of her crew is missing and possibly dead.”

The Primarch pinched the bridge of his nose to stave off a growing headache. “The _Normandy_ has just become our top priority. Commander Shepard saved the Galaxy. The least we can do is find her ship.”

+-+-+-+-+

Solana was sitting quietly in Commander Shepard’s hospital room, Grunt was asleep in his chair, as per usual, and she was messaging with her father. He had just gotten out of a meeting with Miranda and told her they would be stepping up efforts to find her brother. Castis wasn’t the bearer of only good news, though, as he also told her of Garrus’ expected state. Injured and starving.

_CV: G will require medical attention when they find him. You need to prepare yourself for that eventuality._

_SV: They might never find him. Even if they do, no telling if he’ll even be alive, dad._

_CV: We have to hold on to hope, Sol. Follow the evidence._

_SV: Yeah, but what if the evidence says he’s dead already?_

_CV: All we have is circumstantial, I’ll keep looking until we find something concrete. Remember last time? He was alive, despite the evidence._

_SV: I just hope he’s got one miracle left… Dad?_

_CV: Yes Solana?_

_SV: What if he isn’t coming back this time?”_

_CV: Then we stay strong for him, carry out his plans, rebuild our home._

An unfamiliar feminine voice interrupted the turian’s train of thought. “Something serious must be going on. Your brother only makes that face when his algorithms won’t sync.” Solana immediately looked up from her omni-tool only to find the Commander’s eyes open and her head turned to look over at her. “Ah, and that’s surprise.” Shepard laughed then immediately seemed to regret it as she winced. “And people say turians are hard to read, ha.”

“C...Commander? You’re awake?”

“Apparently,” she replied quietly. “Shepard is fine. I’m not your superior.”

“Right, Shepard. Sorry. I just wasn’t expecting to meet you like this… you’ve been asleep a long time. Miranda said you wouldn’t wake up for another few hours.”

The human tried to sit up, but wasn’t able to move more than an inch. “Damn… looks like I’m going to be here awhile yet. Actually, where am I?”

“You are on the Citadel. Huerta Memorial, to be exact. Should I get the doctor?”

“No!” Shepard replied too quickly for Solana’s liking. “No, they’ll just put me back to sleep. Miranda already sedated me once, I don’t like it.” She then abruptly changed the subject. “So you’re Solana, right?”

The turian smiled and reached out a hand to touch the human’s. “I am. It’s nice to actually meet you, call me Sol. The only person who calls me by my full name is my father when he’s upset with me.” She laughed and Shepard chuckled as much as her body would allow.

She turned to look at the sleeping krogan to her left. “Figures Garrus would be off advising or calibrating or something when I finally wake up. How long have I been out?”

If Shepard hadn’t turned away, the look on Solana’s face would have given her away immediately. Thankfully, she was a little preoccupied, with an almost motherly smile on her face, as she watched the krogan sleep. The younger female steeled her voice like she had when talking to her sick mother. “A few weeks. The final battle happened about 18 standard days ago. How are you feeling?”

Still she was watching Grunt but she replied, “Like varren shit. But I suppose that’s to be expected after nearly getting annihilated by a Reaper.” She yawned and turned back to Solana, then quirked her head to the side a little, her eyes seemed to narrow in question. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Solana smiled sweetly. “There’s a lot to tell, Shepard. But there will be time for that later. For now, just get some rest. Real rest without the sedatives. It’s ok.”

Even if she wanted to argue biology was fighting her. “Fine. But don’t tell anyone I was awake. Especially not Garrus, he’ll be upset if he finds out he missed me again.”

The turian leaned forwards and brushed a stray hair out of the Commander’s face. “I won’t. It was nice meeting you, Shepard. I’m sure we’ll talk more later.”

“Mmm…” She hummed in answer, eyes growing heavy. “Nice to put a face to a name… look so much like him.”

Shepard was back to sleep and Solana was left staring in disbelief. She had managed to keep the Commander from finding out the truth, but how much longer that would last was up for debate. Right now, she thought he was alive and well, just working. What the fuck were they going to do about that? Should she have told her straight out that he was missing?

Again she was brought out of her reverie, this time by her omni-tool.

_CV: Sol?_

_CV: Did something happen?_

_CV: Solana Vakarian, answer your messages! What is going on up there?_

_SV: Sorry._

_SV: The Commander woke up. She’s asleep now, but she was awake and talking for a few minutes. I… I lied to her, dad. She thinks Garrus is working. That he just missed her._

_SV: I feel terrible._

_CV: You did the right thing. Do you remember how upset your mother was when she found out he was missing?_

_SV: I think that’s why I lied…. It still doesn’t feel right._

_CV: I know. But that’s what is best. Just for now. Listen to the doctors, this time they might know best. When the time is right they’ll tell her. Until then, keep her comfortable._

_SV: It’s the least I can do. Spirits, where is he?_

_CV: I wish I knew, Solana. I wish I knew._

+-+-+-+

The next time Shepard woke, up it was dark. She glanced around the room and found that she had but one visitor this time. Kasumi. The thief was sitting cross legged on the large windowsill. Possibly asleep, or maybe just meditating. The human had taken Samara’s teachings to heart in their short time together on the Normandy, often meditating with the elder.

To say she was disappointed was an understatement. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see Kasumi, but she had expected Garrus to be around this time. This was her third time waking up, so there had to be a good reason that he wasn’t here. The heart rate monitor spiked as the implications of that sentence sank in. If he wasn’t here, that meant he might not be anywhere.

The louder beeping alerted Ms. Goto to a problem and she was immediately on her feet. “Shep,” she said, her hands moving to comfort the injured Commander. “Just breathe. I’ll call for Miranda. Hold on for me, ok?”

Kasumi pulled back to send a message to the ex-operative, but Shepard grabbed her arm in a weak grip. “No. She’ll put me to sleep… need to know. Where’s Garrus?”

The Japanese woman had an excellent poker face, but this was a little too much for even her to hold back. She had been briefed on what to say, the entire team had been, but that didn’t mean she wanted to be the one to tell Shepard what had happened to her mate. “He’s not here, Shep. We don’t know where he is, the Normandy went missing after the final battle.” She held back her tears as she watched the saviour of the galaxy’s expression fall from anticipation into heartbreak. “They went through the relay before the Crucible was activated, we have teams searching for them now.”

“Why? Why did this happen?” she whispered, voice shaking. “I had to, I had to make a choice. I must have picked wrong… they’re gone because I was wrong!”

“What are you talking about? What choice Shepard?”

The Commander shook her head and pulled her hands over her face as tears leaked from her eyes. “It said I had to make a choice and I did. I destroyed them. I killed the Reapers. I killed the Geth. I’ve killed the only man I’ve ever loved. Oh god Kasumi, what did I do?” Her voice cut off as she began to sob.

The thief did the only thing she could do, she sat on the bed and ran her hands through Shepard’s hair in attempts to calm her. “Don’t give up hope yet, Shep. He’s too stubborn to die now, not after everything. Just breathe for me, that’s it. You saved all of us, he’s got the rest of the team with him, they’ll keep each other safe.”

After a few minutes, Shepard’s sobs had quieted and the monitors had as well. Kasumi thought she had gone back to sleep until she spoke again. “We were supposed to retire on the beach.” She laughed a little. “Stupid thought, turians can’t even swim.”

The younger woman smiled and giggled. “You could teach him? Or, better yet, give him a floatation device.”

The laughter started to get almost hysterical. “I’m sure he’d love that. The great Archangel, floating by with a rubber ducky.”

“Oh, that’s hilarious, but he’ll need a fruity beverage with an umbrella and bendy straw too!”

“Oh, that’s so funny it hurts… fuck, could he even use a straw?” Kasumi had to hold her stomach, she was laughing so hard, but slowly they started coming back to themselves. The giggles turned back into sobs and neither of them could seem to stop.

Miranda opened the door a few moments later, immediately taking stock of the situation. She crossed the room and applied her best bedside manner as she worked to calm the Commander and, by extension, the thief. It was an unusual set of skills that Miranda had to pull out of her bag of tricks, but she did manage it.

After Shepard was cried out for the time being, she looked up at her old XO, eyes red rimmed and still damp. “What’s wrong with me?” she asked.

“That might be a better conversation for another day, Commander,” Miranda replied as she adjusted a few of the monitors.

“I’d rather you got all the bad news out of the way now. Maybe I’ll have something to look forward to the next time I wake up.” Kasumi shrugged and mouthed _may as well_.

Miranda drew in a breath. “Alright. As far as I can tell, the Crucible knocked out all Reaper technology when it was activated, your cybernetics included. But I’ve determined now that they went into some kind of hibernation mode, all of the Reaper code is gone, but your cybernetics originally required those pieces of code to function. Thus, the hibernation until I reworked them.” Her speech started to get a little more technical, and it wasn’t until Shepard held up a hand that she stopped.

“Short version?”

With a frustrated sigh, she summarised. “Your cybernetics are back online, now. Now your body just needs time to heal. Broken ribs, severe burns, moderate concussion, heavy blood loss, and, don’t panic, but you won’t be able to walk for a while, your left leg was amputated below the knee.”

The Commander blinked at her frankness. “But you can make me a new one right?”

She nodded. “Yes, I can and I will once your body has healed enough to accept it. You should be getting back to sleep now, let your body heal. It’s going to take some time, Shepard.”

“I don’t want to sleep, I want to find the _Normandy_.”

“I know you do, but the best thing you can do for the _Normandy_ right now is to get some rest, get your strength back for when they are found. There isn’t a thing you can do right now that isn’t already being done. Just rest.” Carefully, she injected the sedative into the Commander’s IV line. “The Primarch has sent out search parties in conjunction with the Alliance and Flotilla,” she assured her. “They’ll find him, just rest.”

+-+-+-

Chief Kuen sat in a chair outside of the Commander’s cabin. Once he’d boarded the ship with a full security team, there was nothing Doctor Chakwas could really do but explain the extent of the situation. Advisor Vakarian was going through withdrawal. Shit. He could understand why Captain Dell wasn’t told the full story and kept it to himself. The man was going through enough, he was a soldier and probably hated sympathy, let alone pity.

Two days into the journey, he hoped that Garrus would start to improve, but, as the sound of dry heaving hit him again, he figured it wasn’t going to get better for a while. The doors muffled most of it, but the turian wasn’t himself and couldn’t exactly stop even if Kuen asked him to. The doctor had explained what stages Vakarian would go through and was told not to interfere unless the sensors indicated a medical emergency was occurring. A loud bang followed by silence signalled he was done for a few minutes, Vakarian seemed to punch the wall to pull himself out of it. Painful, but effective.

_He’s going to be in a lot of pain, that alone will make him nauseous. Combined with the minimal rations he’s been on, it will be difficult to keep him hydrated and fed. I expect he will get tremors, headaches, be constantly nauseous and, after the initial symptoms set in, very tired but unable to sleep. Psychologically speaking, he’ll be irritable, hypersensitive to light and sounds, and have to deal with bad cravings._

That’s how Chakwas had described it, but Jurgen had a feeling that was the light version. Considering the severe, older scarring on his face and neck, the turian was no stranger to pain. And he’d been able to work as though nothing was affecting him, even being on heavy pain killers and minimum rations. He was a tough son of a bitch, that was guaranteed.

The shower turned on shortly after that. The heat must have been soothing, the temperature up here had already been increased a few degrees above normal as well. The Alliance soldier was comfortable in his short sleeved undershirt, his tunic had kept him a little too cozy.

Just after the water stopped, the elevator pinged to release the Yeoman. Copeland, if he remembered correctly. He stood and greeted her with a warm smile, she was cute and the war was over… he wasn’t above trying. “Yeoman, how are you?”

She smiled back at him. “I’m alright, getting anxious to see Earth, I think. And yourself?”

He nodded his understanding. “I’m with you, but a few more days and we’ll be there. A ship full of heros and her badass escort.” He tried for humor and managed to get her smiling a little bigger. He looked down to the tray in her hands. “He just got out of the shower. I can take that to him, if you like?”

“If you don’t mind, I’ll wait. The doctor wants a blood sample.” She patted the pouch slung over her shoulder with her free hand. “Should we knock?”

He took a step backwards and rapped once on the door. “Vakarian, you decent?”

There was a solid minute of silence before he replied, “As I’m going to be. Come in.”

The pair of Alliance soldiers stepped in through the doors. The turian was seated on the couch on the lower level, his chest bare as he dried off his damp bandages with a small towel. He was already in boots and pants, but had neglected to replace his shirt as the damp cloth would require some time before it dried.

Jurgen’s eyes followed the lines of the turian’s scars with a critical eye. He figured Vakarian’s scars would extend lower than his neck but he didn’t expect what he saw. Long slash marks across the plates of his back and upper arms, some synthetic plating on his right shoulder under the massive facial scarring, and his chest was pocked with old and new bullet wounds. Kuen could see the deep blue bruising across his upper abdomen and old claw like marks on his lower. He was built. Much more muscled than your standard turian, even with three weeks of near starvation.

The bruising was newer, it must have been contributing to his breathing problems considering it was over the turian’s lower lung. What concerned Jurgen most were the marks across Vakarian’s back. Those were older, but were definitely not a standard soldier's scars. Those were slash marks from a whip, or something similar. He racked his brain to try and find an excuse for those other than torture, but nothing immediately came to mind.  

Copeland, in the meantime, had put the tray down and punched Jurgen in the arm to pull him out of his stupor. “Chief…” she warned.

But it was Vakarian’s voice that brought him out of the daze. “I believe the phrase is, see something you like?” It was low, and a little rough, but immediately garnered attention.

“Oh… shit… sorry.” He shook his head and turned away, his face getting a little red. The turian just chuckled briefly.

“Maybe… cat got your tongue? ss more appropriate. I’m used to it, Copeland, don’t worry about it. What does Karin need?”

The Yeoman cleared her throat. "Right. She wanted a blood sample and to know how you are holding up."

He held out his arm and grabbed the steaming mug of kava from the tray with his free hand. The mug trembled slightly, but he didn’t spill as he brought it to his mouth. "I've been better," he replied around the cup and he closed his eyes. "Get it over with."

She obeyed and quickly took the sample from the IV line that Kuen hadn't noticed right away. The doctor had installed a semi permanent line into his forearm just below the elbow. Almost as if Garrus could hear the question rattling around in the Chief's head, he replied, "I'm not good with needles. This is easier for both of us.” He turned his attention back to the Yeoman. “Now, as for Karin, tell her to stop worrying so much. I'm through the worst of it."

"Sorry to interrupt, but you obviously aren't, Vakarian. You've been up since the crack of dawn and only just stopped dry heaving. You've got the lights in here dimmed and are still squinting. Should I go on?"

"No. But stop being over dramatic. By the standard of how I should be doing? I'm great. We've done this dance once before, her and I." He gestured to the burn scars. "Last time it wasn't nearly so pleasant."

"You've got a warped sense of pleasant, there, Advisor."

“Garrus, please. Or Vakarian if you must. Hopefully there isn’t anything left for me to advise the Hierarchy on.” He placed his mug back down on the table and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Is there anything else?”

His growing headache was obvious to the two other occupants of the room, so they quietly excused themselves. Copeland stating she’d be back later that afternoon, and Kuen heading back to his post in the hall. The Chief would be on duty until dinner time when he traded out with Javik. At all times, Garrus had a guard at the door. It pissed him off, but there wasn’t much that could be done about it.

He had been reluctant to let anyone in on the secret, but Karin wanted him to have supervision. With her being so busy with the injured asari commandos on board and his request for discretion, that left the ground team and senior staff as his guards. Liara was busy working on the communications equipment and running the ship, Joker was piloting without help from EDI, and Adams was needed in engineering. That left Copeland, Javik, and Kuen.

After picking at his ration bar and drinking some kava, he carefully levered himself up. Everything was a chore in his current state, even moving from the couch to the bed, but it was better than the first morning where he’d been nearly paralyzed by the pain. It was Omega’s rocket to the face all over again. Even now, when he moved too quickly, he was seeing stars.

Garrus dropped down onto his side of the bed. Sleep wouldn’t come easy, but he was too tired to do anything but lay down. He was able to put enough of a face on when others were in the room, but now that he was alone, the mask fell. The turian started to doze. It was all he could do.

He just needed to hold out until they approached communications range. Then, the turian could pop a stim and the rest of his pain medication. That stupid little thought was nearly all that kept him sane, that he’d finally have answers to his burning question. Well, that and he’d have his drugs back. Either way, he’d need them. If the answer wasn’t favourable, he’d ensure the crew got to Earth safely, then he’d put himself out of his misery. He wasn’t going to live without her again.

Not this time.

+-+-+- END PART 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction Recommendation: Hands-On Training by servantofclio http://archiveofourown.org/works/455673 . Because we all need a little touch to make things work sometimes... Garrus/Fshep


	6. Part-2 Don't leave her alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Normandy arrives in the Sol System.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnndddd we're back! Part Two! Early morning chapter since I'm stuck on a midnight shift. 
> 
> Thank you squiggly_squid!

PART 2

Chapter 6 +-+-+-+

Garrus woke to the sound of his alarm. It was a fitful sleep, but sleep nonetheless. He groggily switched off the omnitool and forced himself to sit up. They were three hours out from the system. That meant less than four hours till Earth. He expected the _Benjamin Davis_ to get picked up on scanners within two hours, and then they would get into transponder range shortly after that. His heart pounded in his chest. So far, they hadn’t met with any resistance, but that didn’t mean they were in the clear.

If they were going to encounter Reapers or hostile ships, he expected it to happen very close to Sol. That was why Jurgen would be coming in shortly with his medication, enough painkillers to tranquilize a varren and a stimulant to get him moving. He was the most qualified crew member at manning the Thanix. Joker could shoot it from the bridge, but it was much more accurate with its own attendant. Considering that Joker had to fly the ship without EDI’s help, the least Garrus figured he could do was man the gun.

He dressed and tried to force down a little water and a piece of ration bar before he heard a knock on the door. “Come in,” he called to the soldier.

“Vakarian, good to see you on your feet,” the Chief said as he descended the stairs. He held out a bottle of pills and the stimulant injector. “Moreau said we’re approaching the zone. Chakwas asked me to tell you to be careful.”

The turian nodded. “The safety of everyone on the _Normandy_ and the _Benjamin Davis_ is more important right now than my drug use, Kuen. Our best shot is with me manning the guns.”

“I agree with you on you being our best shot, but I don’t think that everyone else is more important than you right now. I don’t think you realise how important you were to the war effort.”

Garrus pulled off his portable breathing mask and forced the cap off the pill bottle before he tipped the two little white pills into his mouth. “This was Shepard’s war, not mine.” He pocketed the stimulant, deciding to wait until he started to feel numb before injecting it. Maybe he just wanted a little privacy.

“That’s not what I heard. From the intel that’s been going around, you were the one who set up the Palaven evacuation, reinforced communications and supply routes, and got the turians to set up emergency shelters for refugees on the Citadel. Not to mention, you were reported to be on most of the Commander’s missions.” He followed Garrus into the elevator. “The entire crew of this ship seems to agree with me.”

Garrus grunted in response as he hit the button for the crew deck. “So what if I did all that? We still got slaughtered, it wasn’t enough. I am not more important than any other crewmate on these ships.”

The human shrugged. “See, that’s where you’re wrong. You were the only member of Shepard’s team who actually made an impact on pre-war preparations. The Hierarchy is going to want you back more than the Alliance wants the entire _Normandy_.”

“Tread lightly, Kuen. I’m really not in the mood.”

He raised his hands in front of himself. “Alright, fine. I’ll back off for now, but the sooner you realise your own importance the better off you’ll be.”

“How long is it going to take before YOU realise that I don’t give a shit about anything but getting these ships back to Sol safely right now?” The doors to the lift opened and Garrus stepped out onto the deck. Jurgen had to jog a few paces to catch up the the turian’s longer stride. “Go make sure your squad is ready, if we get boarded I won’t be able to do much from the forward batteries.”

“Yes, sir,” the Chief responded automatically. “Just watch yourself, alright? We’ve got this shit under control. And the Davis has fighters on standby.”

Garrus nodded once as he climbed the steps to the main battery, it was going to be a long wait.

+-+-+-+

It was late at night in London. Admiral Hackett was still in his office coordinating with the multispecies council in Ottawa where it was just late afternoon. At times like this, he could really see why the entire Citadel and most ships used the standard clock, it was much easier to handle than the varied time zones on each planet. Not to mention the variance in hours and days.

Needless to say, the alien races were all having trouble settling into the 24 human-hour day versus their usual 20 standard-hour. Oh, the complications of daily life It was almost a welcome change- almost.

The Admiral’s head dropped down into his hands for a moment. Just a few seconds of rest and he’d be back to work. His assistant had other ideas, though, as she burst in through the doors. “Admiral!” she called, rather excited for the late hour.

He sighed and looked up from his hands. “What is it, Lieutenant?” He didn’t mean to be rude, but he was tired and had asked not to be interrupted.

“Sorry, sir, but it’s the comms. They just lit up. An unidentified ship just showed up on long range scanners. We don’t know if they are a friendly or not yet, and they should be in transponder range within the hour, but, from what the turians could tell, the ship is large. The size of a carrier, which is why they picked it up on scanners.” She paused to take a breath. “Should we send scouts?”

The Admiral was already on his feet and pulling on his jacket. “Get the Primarch on the line. The turians still have the fastest ships and we need eyes on that target now!”

She rushed off without really acknowledging the Admiral beyond a hurried _yessir_. He headed for the conference room down the hall, the building suddenly a flurry of activity as they all headed to action stations. If this was another Reaper, then they had better be ready for it.

He barely had to wait a minute before Victus appeared in front of him. “Admiral,” he greeted shortly. “I just heard. We’ve sent a scout ship, the _Shakar_ , out and should hear back within twenty minutes.”

“That’s a long time, Primarch. Until we know for sure, I think we should continue battle preparations.”

“Agreed. We had planned for this eventuality and, thus far, it only looks like one dreadnought class ship. We can, in our current state, win against a few of those without taking too heavy a loss. The issue lies with what comes after that. Where one Reaper is, others aren’t too far behind.” He hummed a sour note of frustration. “Then again, maybe it isn’t a Reaper.”

Hackett blew out a heavy laugh. “Optimism, Victus? From you, that’s rare.”

“I am a practical man, Hackett. But once in awhile we all need a bit of optimism. Are any of your carriers unaccounted for?”

“Just one, all others have been confirmed destroyed or are otherwise accounted for. The _Benjamin Davis_ disappeared during the final push, my analysts think they went through the relay at the same time as the _Normandy,_ but they could be anywhere if that’s the case.”

The turian nodded thoughtfully. “There is no reason for anyone else’s large class ships to come here to Earth. It’s a possibility, but a small one. I’ll ensure a call goes out to the other races, maybe someone knows something we don’t.” He sighed. “Wouldn’t be the first time. I’ll keep you updated, Admiral.”

“Let me know if anything develops. Hackett, out.” The man stepped out of the communications unit and headed back to his assistant's desk where she was discussing the situation over her headset.  

“...Yes... I see. As soon as you have confirmation, call back.” She flicked the com off and turned to the Admiral. “The newest report is saying there might be a second ship, smaller than the first by far. The size of a frigate.” She paused and hesitantly asked the question everyone was thinking, “Could it be the _Normandy,_ sir?”

“I hope to God that it is, Lieutenant. I hope to God it is. We need some good news.”

+-+-+-

 _“Nothing on scanners yet, Garrus. Although, that’s probably a good thing,”_ Joker’s disembodied voice said over the battery’s speaker. _“Won’t be long, now.”_

“Just keep talking, Moreau. Let me know what you see when you see it, my range down here is limited.”

The pilot obliged him. _“Nothing… nothing… oh, maybe? Nope… still nothing…”_

Garrus rolled his eyes, the distinctly human gesture rubbing off on him over the years. “Anything useful?” He was getting jittery.

_“Nope. Oh wait… hold on! YES! Something real fucking useful, a single ship just came into range. It’s small, a scout ship probably. That’s a damn good sign. Should have a transponder in a few minutes.”_

“Bearing?”

 _“276 Mark 4.”_ There was a moment of silence before Joker added a question. _“Are you aiming at it?”_

“Yes.”

_“What if it’s a friendly?”_

“Then I don’t fire.”

_“Oh… I guess that makes sense. What do we do now?”_

“We wait, and have the _Davis_ hail them. Their communications equipment is stronger than ours.”

And so they waited in silence for seventeen minutes until the transponder came into range. _“It’s a turian ship, Garrus. Holy shit. Someone is still alive back there!”_

“Hail them!”

_“Right, got it. Ben Davis, this is Normandy. Can you hail the turian ship?_

Commander Tuer’s voice came across clear on the com. _“You got it, Normandy. Break. All stations, all stations, this is the SSV Benjamin Davis. Alliance Carrier, registration number 787-09. Please respond.”_

Tuer was about to say her message again when the other ship responded. _“Benjamin Davis, this is the Hierarchy Frigate, Shakar. Captain Venari on the com. Status report?”_

The adrenalin was pumping quicker now as Garrus moved back from the weapons and headed for the elevator. They were going to need him on the com. It was a Hierarchy ship and, even though he’d given the security code to the others, he figured it would be better coming directly from him. He could barely contain his excitement as he rushed to the lift and hurried inside.

He was just stepping out onto the bridge when Tuer passed the com over to the _Normandy._ “ _We will patch you through now, they have a Hierarchy security code.”_

Garrus stepped onto the Commander’s pedestal, steadying himself on the railing and pulling off the portable oxygen mask. “Shakar, this is _Normandy_. Security Code 1B2B3. Confirm?”

+-+-+-

The world was in flux over at the multi-species committee's base camp in Ottawa. It was still daylight there, so the entire population was buzzing with anticipation and anxiety. Soldiers were scrambling from their repair crew postings to their units, and those in the office were all moving at light speed to get the battle plan in place.

The Primarch and his Expert Reaper Advisor had accounted for this situation in their post war plans. It was only natural to plan for the event of a secondary attack, even if the planning had been done over a bottle of brandy in the quiet days between Tuchanka and when Victus disembarked from the _Normandy_. Post war planning had been their break from the war itself, thinking about the possibilities after the Reapers were gone.

They had kept it practical. It wasn’t talk of retirement on the beach, but of alliances and food stores and medical supplies. It was talk of galactic cleanup, new government's, population control and growth, and management of mercenaries and opportunists.

Thus, when the alarm rang, there wasn’t as much of a panic as one would have expected. It was more a flurry of checklists being pulled out and soldiers heading to their stations, units, and ships. Victus himself was headed for the spaceport via shuttle. He was to command a frigate just coming out of drydock.

“Primarch,” the pilot greeted as Victus sat down on the bench and began strapping himself in. “We’ve got priority clearance to the dockyard, whenever you’re ready.”

He looked up from his omnitool. “Let’s move.” The pilot nodded once and started the take-off sequence. The Primarch pulled up his messaging system and found there was a ship update waiting for him, his frigate was space ready with its Thanix cannon online. Good. “How long, Lieutenant?”

“Three minutes, sir.”

The rest of the ride was taken in silence save the few radio calls the pilot had to make. Those three minutes of rest might be the last ones Victus had for some time, so he took them with his eyes closed and breaths deep. When he felt the shuttle coming to rest, he was on his feet again and out the doors before the engines had a chance to fully spool down. He was the last to board the ship, and he immediately ordered them airborne. He took his place at the back of the bridge, the design of this ship what the _Normandy_ had been modelled after and quite familiar to him.

“Report!” he called and was immediately addressed by the First Officer.

“Sir, a second ship has appeared on radar. Smaller than the first, the size of a frigate. The _Shakar_ will be in transponder range in less than one minute.” He gestured to the countdown on the galaxy map, fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds before the war restarted.

“Set an intercept course.” A chorus of _yessirs_ sounded as he left his reasoning unsaid. They all knew this assignment meant they would be on the frontlines in case of a recurrence, and they’d all signed up for it. “Put the _Shakar’s_ com over the speaker.”

The communications officer did as requested and, after a brief second of static, the turian captain’s voice sounded over the com. _“Transponder range in three… two…. one… contact!”_ Her voice carried through the silence of the CIC as each of them waited on baited breath. _“Signal is Alliance! Moving to intercept, weapons armed, shields up. We aren’t taking any chances boys.”_

Adrien let out the breath he was holding. It wasn’t over, but he was nearly ready to let hope overcome his sense of duty. “How long until we reach them?”

The navigational tech turned to him. “At our present speed, and if they stay on course, twenty six minutes, sir.”

He was about the respond, but the female Captain started to speak again. “Incoming message from the lead ship. Putting it over the speaker.”

_“All stations, all stations, this is the SSV Benjamin Davis. Alliance Carrier, registration number 787-09. Please respond.”_

_“Benjamin Davis, this is the Hierarchy Frigate, Shakar. Captain Venari on the com. Status report?”_ The captain responded personally.

_“Shakar, Ben Davis here, First Officer Tuer reporting. Damn, it’s good to hear your voice. We have wounded, two ships reporting in, with us is the Alliance Cruiser, SSV Normandy.”_

“Did you just say _Normandy_?” Venari interrupted, surprised.

 _“Affirmative, the Normandy and her crew are with us. We will patch you through now, they have a hierarchy security code.”_ She pressed a few keys and a familiar voice filtered in.

_“Shakar, this is Normandy. Security Code 1B2B3. Confirm?”_

The Primarch had to lean against the rails of his command post to keep himself on his feet. Vakarian was alive. He actually laughed out loud at the predicament, from the war restarting to the _Normandy_ ’s timely return. It was the worst case scenario turned into the best. “Thank the Spirits.” He turned to the communications Lieutenant. “Can you connect us through the _Shakar_ to the _Normandy_?”

“Of course, sir, I’ll send the request through now.” In the meantime, he listened to their conversation.

_“Affirmative, we have wounded on board. Those in immediate need have all been transferred to the Normandy. Normandy will require immediate docking or, at the very least, shuttles to transport wounded to a medical facility. Benjamin Davis able to await instructions from Command.”_

_“Normandy, we’ll find you a dock on the Citadel. Have your pilot set course 234 mark 5.”_ She paused for a second as the Primarch’s request came in. _“We will escort you with the Davis to the dock. I’ve got a request from Command to patch you through. It's good to have you back, sir.”_

_“Understood, Shakar. Plotting a course now.”_

Victus took the com personally. “ _Normandy,_ this is Hierarchy Command Vessel, _Manae_.”

 _“Victus… that you?”_ Garrus asked in disbelief.

“Vakarian. Spirits, it’s good to hear your voice, Victus here. What’s your status?”

_“The Normandy sustained some damage, but nothing time in drydock can’t handle. We have injured, but no dead from the Normandy’s end. The Davis has drafted a report for the Alliance. We also have a squad of asari aboard from the ship T’mex...”_

“Vakarian, slow down. What is your status? You personally. We have the reports coming in from the _Davis_ and _Normandy_ already. You are the only Hierarchy soldier aboard and Admiral Tali’Zorah alerted us to your stores situation.”

He took a shaky breath and, in a breach of protocol that only he could get away with, ignored the Primarch’s question. _“Adrien. I need to know.”_

It was a rare showing of weakness that Victus couldn’t help but respond to. “She’s alive, Garrus.” The turian said something too quietly for the com to pick up in answer and there was a sharp metallic bang that followed it. “Now, answer me. What’s your status?”

 _“Nothing I can’t handle, but a doctor awaiting our arrival wouldn’t be out of place.”_ He chuckled roughly, his voice lower than usual as he spoke with strained breaths. _“Maybe a ration bar or two.”_

Victus couldn’t stop his mandibles from moving into an amused smirk. “Understood, we’ll make sure the arrangements are made. I’ll see you soon. _Manae_ out.” The communications officer cut the link and the Primarch stepped back from the railing. He hadn’t realised how tightly he’d been gripping it until he let go and had to flex the tension from his hands. “Inform the fleets they can stand down and make sure a turian medical team is waiting at the _Normandy_ ’s dock.”

His communications officer went to work and his second stepped up beside him. “Sir, an entire medical team?”

The Primarch rounded on the Commander. “Yes. An entire medical team.” His voice left no room for argument, but he continued with one pointed finger pressing into the man’s chest. “Without Advisor Vakarian, we would have ended up like the Batarians. He’s the only reason the Hierarchy took any precautions before the war. He designed the Palaven Evacuation Plan and reinforced the communications network. He was my right hand in this war, and now he’s been without proper medical care and literally starving to death since the war ended. Would you deny him now?” He was growling audibly by the time he finished.

“Sir, no, sir!” He replied like a recruit fresh from basic. “I meant no disrespect.” The turian subordinate seemed to cower back behind his station and Victus let him.

The Lieutenant broke the tense silence. “Sir, Admiral Hackett for you.”

“I’ll take it in the com room.” He snapped and turned on heel. “You have the deck, Commander.” He didn’t wait for his subordinate to respond as he stormed out of the room. Once he was alone, he let the tension drop from his shoulders. “Spirits. That’s the first bit of good news we’ve had in awhile.”

Moving to the communications unit, Adrien keyed it up the call. Admiral Hackett appeared in front of him as the typical erie blue hologram. “Primarch,” he greeted.

“Admiral, finally something goes our way. The _Normandy_ is on the way to the Citadel. They have wounded, but it sounds like no one is dying. How was the response on Earth?”

“Everyone is standing down now. It was chaotic, but it was a success as far as initial estimates go. Did the _Normandy_ lose anyone?”

“Negative. A full report will be coming in soon from your carrier. They took heavy losses, but I’m sure that will all be in the report. Vakarian sounded rough, but he’s alive. That should help the Commander Shepard situation, I expect.”

The Admiral apparently hadn’t heard the junior Vakarian was still alive yet as he slumped forwards on his hands against the desk or table in front of him. “Thank the Gods. I don’t know how much longer we could have kept the Commander from getting out of bed without tying her down.”

“If anything, it’ll be worse now. She has backup.”

The laughing started unbidden between the two military commanders. It was the smallest thing in the grand scheme of this war, but it was that little glimmer of hope that could bring them together.

+-+-+-+-+

After closing out the com, Garrus headed for the cockpit. He slumped heavily in the co-pilot’s seat beside Jeff. The pilot finished laying in their course and sat back in his chair, letting out a long tired sigh. He hadn’t left the chair for more than an hour at a time since they left Eden Prime, taking most of his meals there and doing something Copeland referred to as _cat napping_. They were quiet for a few minutes even as the excitement grew behind them in the CIC.

Finally, Jeff turned to look at Garrus. The turian’s eyes were closed and his breathing laboured, obviously in a lot of pain but doing his best to hold it captive. Moreau reached up and pulled the brim of his hat down before he spoke, ever so quietly. “Did Victus say she’s alive?”

Vakarian seemed to wake up as he inhaled sharply and sat up a little straighter. “Yeah. He did.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, wow is right.”

“What a relief, eh?”

“Mmm. I don’t know if I can really believe it. After all this.” He opened his arms up. “I can’t believe it. Spirits, she’s alive. She’s really… alive. I can’t even….” Garrus’ hands came up to cover his face, his breaths quickened as he kept repeating _she’s alive_ over and over again.

The pilot had tears streaming down his face. “I know, Garrus. She is. I didn’t leave her to die again… fuck. I just can’t believe it.”

A loud ping pulled Joker’s attention and he quickly cleared his throat so he could answer the com. “ _Normandy_ here.”

_“Normandy, this is Shakar. We’ve got docking bay D24 ready for you, ETA three minutes.”_

Joker couldn’t help the small chuckle that escaped. “Just like old times.,” he said to Garrus with a smile before he read back the docking instructions to the _Shakar_. When he turned back to the turian, though, he realised that Garrus hadn’t heard him. His breathing was getting harsher and his hands had started to tremble as he leaned forwards with his elbows on his knees. “Hey, G. You alright?” He tried for levity.

When Garrus didn’t reply beyond a head shake Joker yelled back to the CIC. “CHAKWAS! Somebody get the Doctor! COPELAND! Someone, hurry up!” He turned back to the controls, Garrus’ best shot lie on the Citadel and they were too close now for him not to focus on landing. “Oh fucking hell, you are not going to die on her now! FUCK FUCK FUCK! Come on.”

Copland was the first to rush into the cockpit, Liara following closely behind her. “What happened?” they both asked at once.

“It’s Garrus,” Jeff replied, not taking his hands off of the interface. He was just about to start the docking procedure and, without EDI, that was going to take his full attention. He flicked his finger over the com button. “ _Shakar_ , we’ve got a medical emergency. Please tell me you’ve got that doctor standing by!”

_“Normandy, Shakar here. Doctor is enroute, ETA five minutes.”_

Joker took half a second to glance back over at his crewmates. Liara had pushed the turian’s breathing mask back on and they forced him to lie back in the chair. He was grabbing at his pocket, Copeland obviously noticed and she batted his hand away to reach into it for him. She pulled out something that looked a lot like an epi-pen. “Is this what you need?” She asked.

The turian nodded once and tried to take it from her but he couldn’t seem to keep his hand steady enough. Liara took it from the Yeoman. “Where do I inject it? Point for me.”

Joker pulled his attention back to the ship, he was seconds away from the docks. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, come on baby. One last landing.” He chanted as he slowed the ship to a stop and worked to control the drift as they entered the moor. It wasn’t his best landing ever, but he managed it without scratching the paint any further. “ _Shakar_ , _Normandy_ in position. Clamps engaging.”

_“Normandy, medical team is three minutes out. Status report, if able.”_

“Right, 34 year-old turian male in need of urgent care, respiratory distress, he’s on the bridge. Conscious.” Joker took a second to look over at Garrus. “But barely.”

_“Understood, we will relay the information to them. Good luck, Normandy.”_

Jeff was about the respond when, all the sudden, Garrus made a sharp sound of protest. He looked over again to watch as Liara pulled the small cylinder away from his neck. He was right when he thought it was an epipen, because a needle was now sticking out of the bottom. The turian’s eyes shot open and he pulled in a large gasping breath.

“Fuck!” He swore, the word coming out muffled from behind the breathing mask. He seemed to be dizzy as he shut his eyes tightly again and shook his head, taking in a few more solid breaths. “Thanks... I shou… should’ve done that sooner.” He coughed, blue spattering the inside of the mask.

The asari passed the injector back to Garrus when he reached for it, his hand still shaking uncontrollably. “What happened Garrus? What was that?”

He pocketed the used stim after storing the needle with some effort. “That was a stimulant. My adrenalin dropped off too quickly, I was due for another dose, but didn’t notice with all the excitement.” He groaned as he tried to sit up.

Copeland, however, stopped him with a hand on his good shoulder. “You should really lie back, the doctor is on their way.”

“I don’t want a fucking doctor. I want to see Shepard.” He pushed her hand away and started to force himself out of the copilot’s chair. He didn’t get very far, though, even without the women trying to keep him from getting up as another wave of dizziness hit him and he had to sit to keep from falling over. “Oh shit. That’s not good.”

Liara put a steadying hand on him. “Just breathe, Garrus. She’s alive. That’s a lot to take in, even if you weren't injured. Let the doctors check you out, she doesn’t need to see you like this. She’ll panic if she sees you like this. Remember how she reacted on Illium in the early days of her return?” The fight seemed to drain right out of him and there was a sheen of sweat between his plates and his breaths were still laboured, his eyes foggy.

Joker broke the silence. “Docking complete. I’m opening the airlock. Copeland, go meet the medical team.” The Yeoman nodded and left without a sound. “Garrus, she needs you alive more now than ever, you need to get yourself checked out first.”

“I’ll go to her straight away, Garrus. Then report back to you, ok?” The asari assured him.

The turian nodded once. “Alright… if she’s in danger, send for me. Don’t leave her alone.”

“She won’t be. You have my word.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction recommendation: Conspiracy by Tuffet37. http://archiveofourown.org/works/745828 . AU where the turians are kept as pets, ShepardXVakarian.


	7. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus is rushed to surgery, while Liara rushes to Shepard. Who fared better?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Doctors, doctors and more doctors. =(

Chapter 7 +-+-+-+-

The next few minutes were a blur. Garrus hadn’t wanted to be transported via stretcher, but had given in after the asari had given him  _ the look _ again. Liara rode with the turian in the ambulance to Huerta, but disappeared after they arrived, off to find Shepard.The best way for her to do that was to find an access terminal and get some of her contacts on the line. She hadn’t shared her plan with the rest of the team, but did send a message out to let them know she would share the location once she had it. Joker would handle things on the  _ Normandy _ .

She headed for the waiting area near the front of the hospital, and her task was made a lot easier when she spotted James and Steve. The men were standing at the window overlooking the Presidium, chatting quietly. She rushed up to them. “Vega! Cortez!”

The Alliance soldiers turned at the sound of their names. “Ay dios mio! Blue! When did you get here?” He pulled her into a quick hug and then Steve did the same.

“Wait, does that mean the  _ Normandy _ ’s back?” Steve asked as he pulled back from her.

“It does, literally minutes ago. I didn’t think it would be this easy to find anyone. You didn’t hear yet?”

James shook his head. “No. There was an emergency call to arms because the turians spotted an unscheduled ship moving into the system. They just called it off, saying it was some Alliance Carrier that had been missing. There was no mention of the  _ Normandy _ . Where’s everyone else?”

“They’re still on the ship for the most part. It’s just Garrus and I here.”

Steve couldn’t stop the smile from spreading on his face. “Already at Shepard’s side then, I guess?” He had barely finished his thought before he realised his mistake as the asari’s expression fell. “Oh… is… is he alright?”

She shook her head. “He’s alive, but in intensive care. The turian supplies we had on the ship were already low when we crash landed. We managed to keep him from starving, but he was injured in the final push. That’s why Shepard had the  _ Normandy _ come in for Evac.”

“Shit, Scars… man, that’s rough. The Commander isn’t going to be happy to hear about that one.”

Her eyes lit up. “Shepard’s awake?”  

“Come on, Blue. I think she’d like to see you.” He gestured to the elevator and then led the way. “She might be asleep right now, what with all the excitement these past few hours. You know how she hates the medical bay, right?” At Liara’s nod he continued. “Well, she hates Huerta even more. Especially since she found out the  _ Normandy _ was missing.”

“At least we can give her that reassurance now,” Steve said as he hit the button for her floor. “Is everyone else alright?”

“Other than EDI, yes. Tired and dealing with some minor injuries, but the rest of the crew members are alright. EDI shut down just before we crashed, we haven’t been able to raise her yet. We spent weeks detangling her systems from the  _ Normandy _ ’s so we could control the ship.”

Steve quirked his head to the side. “She was built by Cerberus right? At least partially?”

“That’s right, why?”

“The Geth shut down, too. And the Commander’s cybernetics. It seems like anything designed using Reaper coding or tech went into some kind of standby mode. The Reapers themselves just fell from the skies, completely dead. All of the experts from the Crucible project are working on that problem now. They’ve been making progress, I think. Tali will be able to explain more.”

They stepped off the elevator and headed for the Commander’s room. Three guards were in the hall outside, a krogan and two C-Sec officers. They let them by after quickly checking James’ security pass over. Miranda was sitting in a chair beside the Commander and Grunt was standing by the window overlooking the Presidium, like the others had been earlier in the waiting area.

“As soon as I have more information, I’ll give it to you, Shepard. I agreed to letting you in on the truth that they were missing, why would I hide it if they were found?”

A quiet voice replied, it was a little weak but unmistakably Shepard. “Fuck, I don’t know. But all that ruckus for one ship?”

“Yes, because if it had of been a Reaper then we would have needed everyone. I thought you would have at least been happy to see everyone cooperating.”

James cleared his throat and sidestepped to allow Liara into the room. The asari took a few steps forwards, her hand coming up to cover her mouth while tears started to leak down her cheeks. “Shepard,” she whispered almost reverently.

“Liara?” The Commander questioned, her eyes widening before she tried to prop herself up a little higher. “Is that really you?”

Without delay, the asari rushed across the room to her friend’s side. She couldn’t help but lean down to hug the human. She was gentle in doing so, though, not wanting to hurt Shepard even though, in her heart, she was squeezing her tightly. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

Shepard smiled a little as Liara pulled back and took the chair Miranda had vacated. “Relatively speaking, yeah. I’m good. When did you get here?”

“The  _ Normandy _ just docked. I got here as soon as I could.” Seeing the question in her eyes, Liara continued. “The crew is alright, Shepard. They were strong. Joker, Chakwas, Adams, Copeland, even Javik. You trained them well, the Alliance crew is all intact. Tired and could use a good meal, but intact.” She smiled, but, at the Commander’s hurt expression, she stopped.

“You said Alliance crew… you named Javik specifically… what about…”

Miranda stepped in between the women, already seeing what this conversation was about to descend into. “Maybe you should go for now, Liara. The Commander needs her rest.” Her expression was fierce, like a varren protecting her pup. “I’m sure a full update will be in soon, Shepard.”

“No, no I need to know.” She reached out and took hold of the Ex-Cerberus Operative arm. “Where is he, Liara? Why isn’t he here?” When Liara stayed quiet she yelled. “ANSWER ME, DAMN IT!” The monitors started to protest as she started acting up.

The asari pushed her way around Miranda. “He’s alive, Shepard. But he’s sick, they’ve got him in another section of the hospital.”

Without delay, Shepard forced herself all the way into a sitting position. “Sick? Sick with what?”  she asked as she pulled the blanket off of her legs, or as Liara soon learned, her leg. The left one was missing below the knee. “Vega, bring me a damn wheelchair.”

“You’re not going anywhere, Shepard. You need to rest.” Miranda tried as she gently pressed on her shoulders. James didn’t move from the door, torn between Miranda’s order and Shepard’s.

The Commander glared at her old XO and attempted to brush her off. “Fuck that. I’ll get Grunt to carry me if that’s what it takes. He’s alive and on the premises. Don’t deny me this. Not now.”

“I will sedate you if I have to, Shepard! Your cybernetics aren't fully reintegrated into your system yet, it’s a miracle you are even still awake after an hour. There isn’t anything you can do for him right now but get better and let the doctors work.”

Liara had backed off but now, through her tears, she managed to pull a sentence together. “I’m sorry, Shepard. I… I shouldn’t have come in here. You didn’t need this.”

Jane had rested back against her pillows, breathing hard from the excursion of yelling and trying to maneuver herself out of bed. She understood Miranda’s position and, thus far, she hadn’t steered her wrong. The Commander would rest for now, but she wanted to be informed at the very least, her diplomatic and slightly manipulative nature had to come out once again.

“No. I needed to know. I needed this, Liara. But right now, I need him to know that I’m ok, and I need to know that he is too. Can you do that for me? Make sure he’s ok.”

The tears stopped as she nodded vigorously. Miranda pulled a syringe out from the side table beside her bed. “You need to sleep now. I’ll take Liara and we’ll find him. I will do everything I can to help him. Just rest, I’ll wake you if anything happens. Alright?” Her voice had softened as she finished reassuring her old Commander.

When she received the sad nod, she injected the sedative and it wasn’t long before Shepard fell back to sleep. All the while mumbling to herself. “Don’t let him die. Not when he’s just been found again.”

Miranda checked a few things on the monitors before she turned on Liara. In a whispered yell, she started giving the asari a piece of her mind. “What on EARTH were you thinking? She barely clung to life again, then you waltz in here and tell her that her boy… lov... partner is dying!”

“I’m sorry! I couldn’t just lie to her.”

“Yes, you very well could have. At least until you talked to someone about it!” She huffed.

James poked his nose into the conversation. “Hey, chickas? Maybe want to take this into the hall?” He shrugged. “Maybe go find Scars?”

“Right.” Miranda nodded and led the way towards the door. She stopped beside Steve and gave him a harsh look. “Don’t you dare let Grunt or Vega take her out of this room.”

“What are you telling me for? Tell them!”

“I have a feeling you’ll be the only adult when I’m gone.” She turned back to Grunt and gave him a scathing glare. “I don’t care how loud she gets, you make sure she stays in that goddamn bed. Hear me, krogan?”

“Yeah. In bed. Got it.” He nodded in response.

With that, the two women headed into the hallway and Miranda led the way back to the elevator. “Did they say where they were taking him?” She asked as she pulled up her omnitool.

Liara shook her head. “Nothing beyond the turian ward. I expect intensive care or VIP rooms though, if there are any.”

Lawson furiously typed a message into her omnitool and hit send, they stepped into the elevator and she began typing a second message.

“Who are you writing to?” The asari asked.

“The first one was to the hospital director, he has been a big help in getting supplies for Shepard’s recovery. I’m sure he can figure out where they are keeping Garrus. The second was to Solana Vakarian. Family members tend to get faster access to information around here, her Hierarchy security clearance should help too.”

“Solana is here? Garrus’ sister?”

Miranda hummed an affirmative. “I asked the same question. But it seems as though the Primarch let it slip that Garrus and Shepard were together. She’s been here ever since. I’m not one to argue, she needed as many friendly faces as we could find. After waking up alone and still hurting after being dead for two years, I didn’t want her to feel the same way about this revival.”

They stepped out of the elevator to find the waiting room abuzz with activity. It seemed as though word had started to get out that a VIP had been brought in from the ship that had caused the morning’s ruckus. Media personnel, who were quarantined to one side the waiting room - thankfully - along with a number of turian officials, bogged down the room.

The C-Sec presence was strong, the Executor himself giving orders to his men. When he saw Miranda, he held up one talon to ask her to wait for him. She’d met the turian twice now, and both times he’d been rather helpful, so she hoped he would continue to show his usefulness.

Once he was able to get clear, he strode straight across to meet them. “Ms. Lawson. If you are down here and not upstairs the rumor must be true, it’s Garrus, isn’t it?” At her nod he added. “What can I do to help?”

“Executor Chellick, glad you’re here to keep this mob under control. First off, Solana is going to be on her way here soon, if she isn’t already on the way. Second, do you know where they are keeping him?”

“I’ll have the officers get her in as soon as she’s spotted. He’s in the Primarch Aurelia wing.”

“That’s a surgical wing.”

Chellick’s mandibles tightened against his face and he looked away. “It is. From what I heard, it doesn’t look good. I got a condition report but nothing on an ID.”

“Damn it.” Miranda swore and then rounded on Liara. “What do you know?”

She looked from Miranda to Decian and back before lowering her voice and describing his condition quickly. “He was injured on Earth, smoke inhalation, shrapnel, bad burns. Chakwas did what she could, but her medical bay is only designed to do so much. After that, he was on starvation rations for nearly two weeks before we linked up with the  _ Benjamin Davis _ , the carrier that we travelled here with. Then the meds ran dry, he went into shock this morning.”

“Spirits, he can’t catch a break can he?”

“No, apparently not.” Miranda brought her hand to her forehead, trying to stave off the building headache behind her eyes. “His cybernetics probably aren’t working as well as they should be, either. I need to get into that surgery.”

“Cybernetics?” Liara asked.

“Who do you think installed them after Omega?” she asked rhetorically. “Executor, can you get me there?”

He nodded and kept his question of  _ Omega _ to himself. “This way.”

+-+-+-+

Chellick managed to get Miranda and Liara all the way to the surgery’s viewing gallery without incident. The doctors already had Garrus on the table and were running a few high level scans with imaging equipment that far surpassed the  _ Normandy _ ’s. Miranda asked for Chellick to go see to Solana and also about getting Liara proper security passes. He obliged rather quickly, apparently he wasn’t too keen on seeing his ex-partner laid out on the operating table. That suited Lawson just fine.

The hospital’s director, a salarian, was in the gallery already as the human entered. “Director Huzuni.” She greeted shortly. “I see the staff are already hard at work.”

“Ah, Doctor Lawson. What are you doing here?”

“I thought I might see if there was anything I could do. I just heard he was brought in, what’s the prognosis?”

“I don’t think there is much you can do.” The salarian hesitated a moment before relaying the information about his condition, seemingly trying to decide whether or not it would be a breach of patient confidentiality. “He’s sustained severe lung damage and his body’s in shock. I’m not sure how he’s even still alive. You specialize in humans, though, do you not?”

She shook her head. “I specialize in cybernetics actually. In all honesty, I was the one who installed Advisor Vakarian’s. I wanted to see if they were causing him an issue.”

Huzuni shook his head. “Not sure, yet. Considering all the other damage, his arm and face are likely least of his worries. His injuries must have been extensive to require such advanced implants. Do you have access to his medical history? We only have his old C-Sec records.” Both of his statements carried the weight of questions so she answered carefully.

“I can provide you with his full record within a few hours, are there any pressing items of concern?”

“Yes. Any changes to medical history over the past five years is all relevant. Allergies, known conditions, list of relevant injuries.”

“Of course, he’s not allergic to any kind of medication but he does have a slight levo-amino acid sensitivity that is exacerbated by anti-rejection medication. For a time, Advisor Vakarian was an avid user of stimulants while on a classified mission.” She paused for moment to let  _ classified  _ sink in before she continued. “On the same mission, he sustained severe burns to the right side of his body, as is evidenced by the scaring. I installed cybernetics in his face, right shoulder, and arm so that he could maintain functionality. He was also subjected to a number of… information extraction methods. Further scarring evidenced on his back and arms.”

She took a breath and allowed the director to catch up on his note taking before continuing. “Past these occurrences, there have been typical combat injuries only, bullet wounds and the like. Nothing life threatening. In the final battle on Earth, he was injured in an explosion which caused the shrapnel and lung damage. He was cared for on the  _ Normandy, _ but, as stores ran low, he was moved to starvation rations to ensure they would last until the  _ Normandy _ reached Earth.”

He finished his notes. “Thank you, Doctor Lawson. Is there anything else?”

“No. That’s all for now. I’ll have his records sent to you directly as soon as I can. Please call me before any of your doctors touch his cybernetics. I’m here, so I should be the one to do it. A wrong move would be very painful and potentially irreparable.”

“We’ll keep you updated. But I must get in there, it looks like they are ready to open.” Huzuni headed for the sink to wash his hands and arms.

“What are you doing for him?”

“Patient has shrapnel in his chest cavity. Would have been impossible to see without proper imaging equipment, metallic carapace in the way. Will update his next of kin when he is out of surgery, but expect it to take a few hours.” He stepped up to the door, which opened automatically.

“Good luck,” Miranda said as he entered the operating room and started relaying instructions to his team. She took a few steps back and sat down in one of the few gallery chairs. She watched as they began the process of cracking the turian’s chest open.

It was less primitive than it sounded, they used a series of small incisions around the metallic plates to maneuver their tools around in his chest and were actually able to remove one of his synthetic plates instead of a real one to remove the piece still lodged inside. He was hooked up to a number of machines and, from what she could see, there was an oxygen tank, three different fluid bags including a blood pack, painkillers, and antibiotics, a whole fleet of sensors, and then there was something she didn’t recognize. It must have been turian specific from the script on the side. Whatever it was, it hadn’t been brought in until Huzuni had relayed a few instructions.

She sat quietly, just watching the doctors work until her omnitool buzzed. Chellick had located Solana. Miranda replied that she was on her way and headed back towards the waiting room. The turians were sitting together just inside the room, Solana in her wheelchair still and Chellick sitting as to not tower over her.

The human woman slid a chair over to close off their small circle and began to relay all the information she could. “He’s critical, but the Director seemed hopeful. They’ve got him in surgery now to remove some leftover shrapnel from his chest. Once he’s been on fluids and nutri-packs for a few days, he should start to truly recover.”

Solana nodded slowly. “I was already on my way here when I got the call from Detect… I mean Executor Chellick, the Primarch had called my father and said he spoke to Garrus just two hours ago. What happened to make his condition deteriorate so quickly?”

Miranda’s mouth quirked as she thought about it. The operative remembered Garrus’ substance abuse from the early days of his return from Omega, the overuse of stimulants causing him to function just fine before crashing. If she were a betting woman, that’s what she’d put her money on. Instead, she decided to say. “Adrenalin can make someone do a hell of a lot more than you’d expect. Once the ship docked here, there was no reason for his body to react as though he was in danger, or the crew was for that matter.”

The Executor hummed thoughtfully and nodded. “Garrus was always more concerned with keeping people safe than his own welfare. The first time he was injured on duty, he didn’t notice until someone mentioned the hole in his shoulder back at the precinct.”

The youngest Vakarian huffed a slight laugh. “Sounds like my brother. Dammit, Garrus. Does Shepard know?” The slight twitch of anger in the human’s brow alerted her to the truth. “That good, eh?”

“One of the others from the  _ Normandy _ , Dr. T’Soni, let his condition slip. No details, just that he was critical. It didn’t go well. She’s sleeping for now, but I should go check on her. The doctors will keep you updated. Chellick, can you make sure they know she’s here?”

“Already done, they’ve got Sol’s contact information.”

“Excellent, please update me when you hear something?” She asked as she stood up to head for the exit.

“Of course.”

+-+-+-+

Primarch Victus’ ship docked at the Citadel about four hours after the  _ Normandy _ had. He’d seen to his primary duties post emergency drill and delegated what he could of his remaining tasks. The  _ Normandy _ was now his top priority, which, in reality, meant Garrus Vakarian was. The turian had become his most trusted advisor, he was important to the future of the hierarchy, and that meant he warranted a personal visit from the Primarch. No one would deny him that, even if he really just wanted to check on his friend.

He had spoken briefly with Castis while delegating tasks and the look of relief on the man’s face had been palatable. The turian had wanted to get on a shuttle bound for the Citadel immediately, but his sense of duty had won out when Adrien promised to go check on Garrus personally and ensure that Solana got to see him as well. He would send a report back as soon as he could.

The  _ Manae _ docked directly beside the  _ Normandy _ on level D and was almost immediately swarmed by media personnel. A team of Hierarchy soldiers were the first off the ship and, along with a group of C-Sec officers, they cleared the path for the Primarch to exit the ship. He was tempted to ignore the calls for an interview and questions about what happened, but something about this whole situation angered him more than it should have, so he obliged.

Adrien stopped at the bottom of the ship’s ramp, a few feet higher than the audience. His voice took on the tone he used as a general of the Hierarchy. “Silence!” Not a single person quarrelled with his command. “As you can see, the  _ Normandy _ has returned with her crew intact. The Alliance’s  _ SSV Benjamin Davis _ is to be commended for their efforts in returning them to us. As are those who mustered over the past few hours to defend against a possible resurgence.”

He paused for a moment and a particularly adventurous asari reporter called out. “Primarch, sir! Our sources tell us there was an injured turian delegate on the  _ Normandy _ , can you confirm this?”

He kept his face an impassive mask. “A turian liaison was aboard the  _ Normandy, _ but I cannot confirm their condition. If I hadn’t been interrupted by yourselves, I might already have this information, but now you are wasting my time and your own. While your brothers and sisters were mustering for battle, you were all here trying to find the biggest story. What you should be doing is working on recovery efforts.”

There was a discontented murmur from the C-Sec Officers and his guards as they agreed with the Primarch. “Commander Shepard saved this galaxy, she is adamant about rebuilding. Do her proud, do your families proud, rebuilding efforts require everyone’s help. Instead of trying for fame, you should have been working rebuild our worlds. If you’ll excuse me.” Adrien began to walk forwards and ignored the calls and questions. He had a job to do.

By the time he was at the security checkpoint, the media had been forced back enough to allow the Primarch through. A squad car was waiting for him on the other side, C-Sec’s Executor waiting outside of it. “Primarch Victus.” He greeted. “Executor Chellick. It is an honor to meet you face to face, sir.”

Victus nodded a greeting and slid into the air car. Without delay, Chellick joined him and they were off towards Huerta. “I am glad to meet you, as well. Vakarian mentioned he worked with you in the past, while he was at C-Sec. He told me you were a solid choice for the Executorship.”

Decian’s mandibles fluttered with anxiety over the praise. “Thank you, sir.” He quickly changed the subject. “Your Communications Officer relayed that you wanted to see Advisor Vakarian immediately. That may not be possible, sir.” Adrien's head tilted in question, so the officer continued. “He’s in surgery. The doctors are working to remove shrapnel from his chest and repair lung damage.”

“Spirits…” He breathed in response. “How bad is it?”

“It’s not looking good. As far as I’ve been able to gather, he was injured in the final battle on Earth. The ship’s doctor did everything she could, but their supplies and equipment were insufficient.”

“Have you seen him, yet?”

“Not exactly. He was taken straight to the operating room, his sister is waiting for updates and will relay anything that comes up.” The look on Decian’s face was severe as he added a few details. “I have a copy of Doctor Chakwas’ report sir. I skimmed through it. He’s been starving himself slowly since the war ended in order to survive. Garrus might not be able to come back from this one.”

The squad car began its descent into the hospital’s emergency vehicle zone and the two turians stayed silent. There were no words right now. For a soldier, succumbing to an illness was the worst fate. They expected to die young, but it was supposed to be quick, not like this. Not lying in a hospital bed while your friends watched you slowly deteriorate.

“Spirits damn it!” The Primarch yelled suddenly, spooking both the driver and the Executor. His fist came down hard on his thigh before his face fell into his hands. “After everything that man has been through… can’t he just have one thing go right?”

Tentatively, Decian placed a hand on Adrien’s shoulder. “Don’t give up on him, sir.” Slowly, the older man looked up. “He needs our strength right now.”

“You’re right.” He shook his head to clear the fog and cleared his throat. “Can you take me to him?”

“Of course.” Chellick stood up and shuffled out of the vehicle. The Primarch followed him and they quickly made their way through the halls of the hospital. It was bustling with activity still, but they managed to avoid the main halls on the way to the turian wards. They reached the operating room in record tim. A guard was standing at the doors and immediately saluted the leaders of his species, his nervous energy obvious. “Has there been an update, Officer?”

He quickly shook his head. “No updates on his condition, sir, but Doctors Lawson and Chakwas joined the operating team about ten minutes ago.”

“Understood. Primarch, would you like to wait in the gallery or head back to the waiting room?”

“I’d like to see him, Executor.” Victus answered quickly. The C-Sec Officers stepped aside and Victus entered the small room. The door shut behind him automatically and he crossed to the window. Garrus was laid out on the table, hooked up to all sorts of machines and with multiple doctor’s hands in his chest.

He’d come to care for the younger turian over the past few months and seeing him like this was unsettling to say the least. He moved to the console by the window and turned the speakers on so he could hear what was going on as well as see it.

Lawson’s voice was the first one he recognized. “If I don’t do this now, he will lose all sensation in his arm and, before long, complete functionality. Not to mention what the addition of sedatives is doing to his body. You have to wake him up.”

“If I wake him now, the mental trauma he’ll suffer is worse than losing the arm!” A salarian doctor snapped back. “We need to wait a few hours, at least, until the stimulants are out of his system.”

The woman he remembered as Doctor Chakwas stepped in before Miranda could respond. “I have been treating Garrus for years. He would want Ms. Lawson to save his arm. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s been through a lot more than this, pain is nothing new to him. Those sedatives are wreaking havoc on his heart and immune system, you know that.”

“Maybe if you hadn’t left shrapnel in his chest, then this wouldn’t have been an issue doctor.” He replied back snidely. “He is my patient now and the risk is too great.”

An older turian doctor piped in. “She did what she could, Director. More than we’d have accomplished without imaging equipment. Listening to them would be best, they were the ones who brought him back last time he was injured to this extent.”

“Doctor Mephran, you are a guest in this hospital the same as them. You will listen to my instructions!”

“I treated Advisor Vakarian on Illium.” He growled. “I know him. He will come back from pain, but the longer we wait, the worse the sedatives are going to make him. Listen to reason, Director Huzuni. There is a reason you asked me here from Illium when the war began, there is a reason I am standing in this operating room.”

In the Hierarchy, a direct superior had just as much say as a next of kin when it came to medical decisions. It was necessary when a soldier was incapacitated in the field, as Commanders were supposed to have their men’s best interests at heart. Thus, Adrien knew what he had to do. 

The Primarch stepped back up to the console and keyed it on. “As Advisor Vakarian’s direct superior, I authorize whatever treatment Doctor Mephran deems necessary. He is now the lead on this case.”

All eyes shot over to the viewing gallery to fall on the Primarch. “Understood, sir,” Mephran responded. He then went to work, relaying information to his staff and sending the Director out of his operating room. The salarian stomped out through the far doors leaving the other doctors to their work.

Victus backed up and fell into one of the galley chairs to watch the proceedings. They finished closing and began the process of forcing Garrus to wake up. He wasn’t sure why they needed him awake, but he understood that it was not going to be pleasant. He sat, eyes glued to the window, elbows on his knees. One of the nurses quickly ran out of the room and returned a short while later with long leather straps and metal clasps.

The human woman, Miranda, started to apply them to Vakarian, taking care in her liberal application. His bad arm was pinned down in three places first, followed by his shoulders, chest and good arm. She was just about done when the low groan of his junior alerted them to the fact he was starting to become aware. The pained sub vocals were obvious to even the non turians in the room. Once awareness started to come back to him, it was obvious he wasn’t going to like what was coming next. He thrashed as much as the bindings allowed, but it was no use, he wasn’t going anywhere.

“Garrus, Garrus, listen to me. Just breathe. I need to fix your implants,” Miranda said as she leaned over him. “This is going to hurt, but your arm won’t get better unless I do this.”

His high pitched whine made Victus want to intervene, but he gripped the arms of the chair instead. Karin stepped to the left and he was able to see Garrus’ face, his eyes wide and visibly panting under the oxygen mask. The Ex-Cerberus operative moved into position at the turian’s side, sitting down in a newly pulled over chair. He could see the grimace as she cut into the flesh in between the plates on his arm.

“Breathe, Garrus.” She took a tool that looked like it belonged in a computer and not someone’s arm and began to pick at something under his plates. The turian didn’t look as though he was enjoying the sensation as he attempted to thrash. “Mephran, keep him still.” She ordered.

The doctor’s hands moved to the pinned turian’s shoulders. “Hold on a little longer, Vakarian.” He pressed down to ensure Garrus couldn’t move around as much while Doctor Chakwas and another attendant tightened the straps down further. “Get me another blood sample!” He demanded.

Victus couldn’t remember standing up, but as Vakarian screamed he slammed a hand against the glass shielding the operating room from the gallery. The doctors either didn’t notice the Primarch’s outburst or they ignored him. “Damn it, Garrus. Hold on. Spirits help him… please.”

He wasn’t sure if the injured turian had passed out or not, but the scream finally stopped after what must have only been twenty seconds but felt like hours. He opened his eyes to watch as the turian began to recite his name and identification number continually. “Garrus Vakarian, identification number D77 631 449.” The words were jumbled and broken and interspersed with pants and groans before he screamed again, his voice cracking.

He’d reverted back to his short stint in Spectre training. The only things he’d say now were his name and number. If a Spectre was captured that information wasn’t enough to completely give away an operation and it gave the captive something to hold on to. Needless to say, it was terrible to watch.

Just when Victus almost wished for anything to stop Garrus’ pain, Miranda pulled back. “Got it,” she announced wiping her brow with the back of her hand. “He is going to need rest and some adjustments later on, but nothing like this.”

Mephran pulled back from his, now limp, patient. “Damn it. That was terrible. What were you doing?”

“Adjusting and reconnecting the nerve that produces sensation in his arm. The technology I based that particular strand on was Reaper Tech, regaining all the feeling in his arm at once was the only way I could accomplish it. His cybernetics, while based on Commander Shepard’s, work differently. Hers have been included in her body’s make-up, whereas his are an addition to his nervous system.”

Victus’ forehead dropped to the cool panel of glass. That was the most unpleasant thing he’d ever forced himself to watch. Considering he’d sent men to their deaths daily during the Reaper war, that was saying a lot. When he opened his eyes again, he found they landed on the spent turian’s form. Garrus’ eyes were shut now, he was panting hard and keening low in his chest. 

Hesitantly, he pressed on the microphone. “Can’t you do something for him? Anything?” He asked, nearly pled, for his friend.

Mephran turned to the window. “I’m sorry, Primarch. We are doing all that we can. Advisor Vakarian has a high dosage of stimulants in his system and they need to dissipate before we can sedate him again. Putting him out in the first place was dangerous, doing it again would surely result in disaster.”

“I understand.” He nodded. “What else do you need to do?”

“That’s it for now, sir. He’ll be taken to recovery. I can give you a full briefing shortly,” he added as he turned back to his patient and helped to remove some of the leather binding him to the table. They left a few straps for later on when he regained awareness, but anything was better than the twelve or so straps holding him down a few moments ago.  

“I’d like to go with him,” Victus said as he pushed himself back from the window and seemed to find his commanding presence again.

“Of course, sir. We will meet you in the hallway.” He gestured to the far side of the room where the salarian had exited nearly an hour ago. Victus left through the door he’d entered through and acknowledged the turian C-Sec officer outside with a nod. “Where did the Executor go?”

“He left when the screaming started, sir.” He responded hesitantly. “That wasn’t easy to hear and I don’t know Officer Vakarian personally. What happened, sir?”

Adrien took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The doctors had to set his arm.” He replied simply. “They should be finished soon, keep that to yourself, please, Officer.”

After the hurried  _ yessir  _ and salute, Victus headed around the corner to meet up with the medical team. He waited barely five minutes before Garrus was wheeled out into the hallway, Mephran was the only doctor present. The others were still in the OR. They didn’t exchange pleasantries. Instead, Victus fell in at Vakarian’s side as they made their way to his room in the ICU.

The older turian’s eyes scanned the young man’s body quickly. He’d seen the scars before, that was nothing new to him. What was new was the grimace of pain on his face and the tremble of his hands. He had been thinner than he should have been since they met, but now even his muscle had started to eat itself. Not an ounce of protective fat lay over his muscle and bones.

With his chest bare to the open air, Victus could see the blue stained bandages from the operation. A large piece of gauze covered his bad shoulder, indented in a way that showed a plate was missing. When they reached his room not more than a few minutes walk away, he stepped back to allow the team to set him up with all the gear he would need to recover.

One of the attendants went to insert an IV line into his bad arm, but Mephran stopped him. “Best let me do that. If I remember correctly, needles are not Advisor Vakarian’s strong suit.” Quickly, he found a more appropriate location for the line in his good arm at the wrist, which was an unusual spot on a turian. “I’ll finish from here, you’re all dismissed,” he said as they finished up.

“Of course, doctor, when should we relieve you?”

“I’ll call for someone shortly,” he said and the others quickly departed. “Primarch, there isn’t anything left for you to do, either. You should get some rest.”

Victus gave a surprised huff. “No. I think I’ll stay for a while. He’s conscious still, isn’t he?” The doctor nodded. “Might be best for faces he knows to be here until he’s asleep then.”

“He knows my face, but I expect most of his memories of it are not pleasant.” At his questioning eye he asked a question of his own. “How much do you know of his past, Primarch? I wouldn’t want to overshare.”

Adrien thought back on the first time he and Vakarian had been changing gear, he’d seen the scars and asked, but mostly had been brushed off in the face of the Reapers. Slowly, as he gained the younger man’s trust, he had started to open up about it. “The facial scarring and cybernetics were the result of a missile. The others are from an interrogation, if I recall correctly.”

Mephran chuckled morbidly. “He is a master of understatement. By interrogation, he means torture, Victus. But I’m sure you figured that out yourself if you’ve seen his back.”

“I have.” Adrien replied with a firm voice. “That still doesn’t tell me how you know him.”

“Commander Shepard brought him to me on Illium. Doctor Chakwas and Ms Lawson had already implanted the cybernetics, but he needed plates replaced and I had to set his pelvic ones.” Victus flinched at the implication of that statement but remained silent. “There isn’t much he didn’t have happen to him. I am expecting some trouble keeping him hydrated and medicated, and in bed for that matter.” He paused for a moment before questioning the military leader. “You’re more than his Commander, aren’t you, Primarch?”

Without hesitation he replied. “I am. Not only is he my most trusted advisor, but he is also my friend. I will do everything in my power to make sure he heals.”

“That’s all I needed to hear. It’s insidious, isn’t it? How suddenly you care for this man like your own son? It happened to me and I only knew him a short time. I can’t imagine working with him for months, what that would do to me.” The doctor trailed off.

“You’re right. I care for him as much as I cared for my own son before he died. The war took Tarquin from me, I won’t let it take Garrus too.” He ran his hand over his fringe and took a deep breath. “What happens now?”

“Soon, he’ll pass out. It won’t be long before the stims run their course and he can sleep. He’s not coherent now, mind you.” He quickly amended, “Just barely conscious.”

“And when will he wake up?”

Mephran seemed to think about it for a few moments. “He should wake up after a couple of hours, once the pain starts to get too intense for him to stay asleep on his own, but he’s rested enough to realise it. I’m hoping that he’ll get six hours or so. Then, I can immediately administer a sedative, otherwise I’ll need to periodically check his blood chemistry until he shows to be clear enough for it.”

“You can’t give him something now?”

The doctor shook his head. “I’ve given him all we can. Anything more, and we risk his heart. With the other internal damage, I don’t want to cause anymore.” He pushed himself up from the chair he’d placed himself in. “Someone needs to speak with his sister. I’ll have her kept out until he’s sedated, best she doesn’t see her brother like this. Someone will come running if you press this button.” He showed the other turian the button in question then added, “Don’t hesitate, Primarch. If his breath so much as catches, call me back.”

“Thank you, doctor.” Victus stood and walked the man to the door. “You’ll be the first to know if anything changes.” Without another word, the doctor nodded and departed. Victus was left alone with Garrus in the quiet room.

He walked back to the bedside from the doors and carefully levered himself down into a chair. He watched the slow rise and fall of his friend’s chest, agonizingly slow and obviously painful. Adrien was glad that Solana wouldn’t have to see him like this, injured, starved and tied down to a hospital bed. He ran his hand over his fringe again and swore out loud before going silent. It was going to be a long wait.

Adrien knew he shouldn’t be the one sitting here. It should have been one of his closer friends from the  _ Normandy, _ or possibly a member of his family. Spirits knew, as Primarch, he had many other things to attend to, but he couldn’t seem to tear himself away from Garrus’ bedside. Whether it was a sense of duty to his direct subordinate or if it was a lingering instinctual requirement, he couldn’t say. Somehow, he just thought that Vakarian would prefer it be him over his sister, or, Spirits forbid, Shepard that saw him like this.

He knew the younger turian had a way of playing down his own needs, but to allow himself to get into this state was extraordinary. He couldn’t help but trace the lines of his scars with open abandon, before he’d always averted his eyes out of respect for Garrus’ privacy. But now? With his chest laid bare, he couldn’t stop his curiosity.

The scarring that covered the right side of his face was just as bad as it went down his neck and shoulder, the flesh warped and charred even after so long. Blue stained bandages covered a few places on his arm where Ms. Lawson had operated most recently. There were old pockmarks on his chest from shrapnel and bullet wounds, not unlike the marks on his own body. Soldiers tended to gain at least a few scars and even he wasn’t immune.

However, the long slash marks that curved over the man’s shoulders and marred his back were definitely not typical. Nor were the claw marks on his pelvic plates. What kind of situation had Garrus gotten himself into that he had been tortured to that extent? Who could have done something so horrid? He wasn’t really sure if he wanted to know.

An hour passed before Garrus finally fell asleep. Victus watched as his breaths started to even out and the pained expression dropped from his face. He must have been on some damn good stims for his body to take that long to crash. Victus had used them before, as well. Not to the extent that his subordinate had, obviously, but enough to know what kind of high they produced. The crash would be worse than not being on them in the first place, but he had to admit they did produce results while you were on the up.

Later, when Mephran returned, Victus stepped into the hall to check his messages and found most items had been dealt with already. Castis and his other staff had been handling his sudden disappearance quite well, all things considered. He pulled up a summary from his assistant and found a series of yes or no questions was almost the extent of what was needed. He did smile at that, Castis was always a little too efficient and, apparently, he was rubbing off on the young turian soldier that had been assigned to him.

He quickly went through the list and found the last question was the only breach in protocol.  _ “Is the Expert Reaper Advisor expected to recover?” _ Adrien thought about his answer carefully and clicked  _ yes _ before adding a note,  _ in time _ . He knew that message would get into the proper hands.

Victus looked up and wasn’t surprised to see one of the  _ Normandy _ crewmates waiting for him to finish on his omnitool just down the hallway. Her name was Dr. T’Soni, if he remembered correctly, a teammate of Shepard and Garrus’ from the beginning. If the rumors were true, then she was also the Shadow Broker, but he couldn’t confirm that fact. He waved her over. “Doctor T’Soni. What can I do for you?”

“Primarch.” She nodded in greeting. “How is he doing?”

“He’ll live, but recovery isn’t going to be easy. It seems as though Ms. Lawson was able to save his arm, but only time will tell.” She seemed relieved, but, before she could inquire further, he turned the questioning around. “How is the Commander? I trust you’ve seen her now?”

Again, she nodded, this time a little too hesitantly. For the suspected Shadow Broker, she really did wear her feelings on her face. “She is sleeping. It has been a rather stressful day for her.”

“Does she know about Vakarian?”

“She knows he was brought in to the hospital, but has been asleep since then. Miranda is going to be waking her soon. She wanted me to get an update on his condition to bring back. Is Garrus asleep?”

“He is.” Victus replied, “His doctors are hoping he’ll get a few hours. Give his body a chance to heal.” He turned to the door. “I’m heading back in now. Tomorrow, you should be able to see him. Give him a chance to rest first.”

The asari understood and excused herself with nary a look through the doors. She had seen Garrus before he’d been brought in considering they’d been on the  _ Normandy _ together, but that didn’t mean she had to see him now. She seemed to respect that bit of privacy Victus requested.

Once he settled back into his seat, the doctor left again. He was alone with his charge and watched Vakarian’s chest rise and fall. It was calming and concerning all at once, but the calm look on Garrus’ face was enough to help soothe Adrien.  Soon, he found himself relaxing too. The days were catching up with him and his eyes grew heavy.

Soon, the Primarch fell asleep sitting upright in his chair, exhaustion finally taking hold in the quiet of his friend’s hospital room. The tiniest noise would rouse him, and there were guards in the hallway if anything truly requiring his attention came up. Until then, though, he could sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction Reccommendation: Something a little lighter, perhaps? Shakarian Babies by lyriumandbiotics. http://archiveofourown.org/works/4017778. Adorable.


	8. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some questions are better left unasked.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Monday!!

Chapter 8 +-+-+-+ 

Shepard started coming to slowly; deliberately, it seemed. When she was able to, she opened her eyes to Miranda standing over her bed, checking the monitors. “Welcome back, Shepard,” she said with a smile. “I’ve got news for you.”

Carefully, the Commander propped herself up on her elbow. “Please be good news,” she whispered.

“I wouldn’t have woken you up unless it was. He’s out of surgery and sleeping now.” She saw the relief immediately wash over the commander and then watched the question seep in. Before she had a chance to ask, Miranda clarified. “Garrus had a piece of shrapnel stuck in his chest. There was no way Karin would have been able to see it without proper imaging scanners like they’ve got here. I’ve also made adjustments to his cybernetics to allow them to operate like yours are now. It’s going to be a long road, but he will heal, Shepard.”

The Commander was never more thankful that the room was empty save her and her old XO. It meant that no one else could see the tears trailing down her cheeks with the good news. The sheer relief flooding in made the dam break and she wept unashamedly. The other woman did the only thing she could think of, wrapping her into her arms and letting her cry it out. She had never been one for bedside manner, but maybe she was finally learning what it really meant as she caved.

After a few minutes, Shepard started to calm back down and pulled back. “Thank you. I think I needed that.” With a slight shake of her head, she cleared the last of her tears. “Can I see him?”

Miranda’s mouth quirked to the side. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Shepard. For either of you. Give him a day to rest and begin to recover. The minute he can stand, he’ll be here. Maybe sooner, knowing him.”

Jane looked away to the floor on the opposite side of the bed trying to find an argument, when she looked back up, Miranda’s arms were crossed over her chest. That was never a good sign. “It’s the middle of the night. I don’t have to go in, just let me see him. From the hallway, just for a few minutes.”

“Two problems with that.” She held up one finger. “First of all, you need to recover just as much as he does. Second, if I take you down there, you won’t want to leave after  _ just a few minutes _ .”

“I’m feeling well enough to be pushed around in a wheelchair, it’s not like I’m asking to run a marathon. And maybe you’ve got a point on that second one, can you blame me?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t blame you for wanting to see him. But your cybernetics need to keep integrating into your system. They do that best while you’re asleep. If you take the time to sleep now, it will honestly take weeks off the total recovery time.”

“You just said the second he can stand he’ll be here, why shouldn’t I be there for him?”

“To start with, you can’t stand Shepard.” That gained her a glare but she continued. “He also deserves a small bit of time where others take care of him. As soon as he gets to you, he’ll want to take care of you himself, you know that. He’s driven himself to the breaking point and if he doesn’t get at least a little rest he might not recover.”

Jane’s face had taken a severe turn. “At least tell me what you mean by the breaking point. I don’t think I can rest without knowing what happened to him, at least. Liara said he was sick, you said he just got out of surgery, what are we actually talking about here?”

“Fine. But once you know, you have to promise to wait for him to come to you. And! You have to go back to sleep.” She waited for Shepard’s nod before she began to relay the information. She ignored the Commander’s clenched fist and teeth as she went over some of the more graphic details of her partner’s situation. The Ex-Cerberus Operative was careful not to leave anything out from his bout with starvation, to the smoke inhalation he’d suffered.

Even as she hesitated over the words, she told the Commander of his foray back into drugs. How he withdrew for days, then shot himself up with enough painkillers and stimulants to knock a krogan battlemaster down. “They didn’t know what to expect when they got to Sol,” she explained. “He was willing to do anything to make sure that the  _ Normandy _ got home safely.”

Shepard closed her eyes and swallowed her discomfort. “Couldn’t anyone else have manned the guns?” Her frustration showed through as she rubbed a hand over her eyes, her commander’s mask nowhere in sight. “That shit almost killed him last time. Why on Earth did he start dosing again?”

“It’s not his fault, Shepard. Garrus did everything in his power to ensure that they made it back to Sol. That’s what matters, they made it.”

“But there was no damn reason for it! The Reapers are gone. Those fuckers took so much already, they can’t have him too.”

“Please calm down, they haven’t taken him. He’s still here.” She placated her charge as best she could. “They didn’t know what they were in for upon arrival in the system. From what Liara told me, Garrus was adamant about protecting the  _ Normandy _ and their escort, an Alliance carrier. He wouldn’t put his own health above the possibility that the Reaper’s weren’t gone and they were going head first into battle. Give him a break, please?”

The Commander blew out an angry breath. “Ok. I get it. I don’t like it, but I get it. When did you start getting so defensive of the other crew members?” Her voice had softened by the end, making her question more of a statement than an accusation.

But Miranda bristled anyways. “I’m not getting defensive, I’m just trying to calm you down.” It was an easy lie even though she had come to care about the crew, even Garrus, it seemed. “I think it’s time you got some sleep. Alright?”

“You should get some rest too.” Shepard looked away for a moment then gave in and laid back down. “You’ll wake me again if anything changes, right?”

“Of course, Shepard.” She adjusted the Commander’s pillow and blanket before administering the sedative. She didn’t resist this time and was sound asleep within a few minutes. Their road ahead was going to be a long one, but these early days of recovery would help ease the pain a little.

+-+-+-+

A small clanging sound woke Adrien half way through the night cycle. He was immediately pulled to alertness by the change in the room, the dim lighting, and near non-existent background noise. He’d slept longer than he first thought. His eyes immediately fell on his subordinate, who looked a little worse for wear now than he had earlier, if that was possible.

Garrus’ breathing was shallow and erratic under his oxygen mask, almost as if he couldn’t catch a full lung of air. A cold sweat had broken out between his plates and his hands were shaking fiercely. Mephran had mentioned he’d be withdrawing, but, for some reason, Victus hadn’t expected it to be this bad.

Another clang broke him out of his stupor and he watched as Garrus continually pulled his good arm against the restraints. He stood up from his chair and moved to comfort the younger turian. “Vakarian, try to relax. Look at me.” He stopped clanging the cuff against the railing and forced his eyes open. “That’s it, Garrus. Breathe.”

“Adrien?” He asked voice low and pained.

He couldn’t stop the smile that spread over his mandibles. “Yes. Now hold on, I’ll get the doctor.” He began to reach for the call button but stopped when the injured man, unsuccessfully, tried to grab him.

“No. Not yet.”

“Garrus…” He started, his tone disapproving.

“Hold… on.” He forced out. When Victus acquiesced and sat back down, Garrus shut his eyes, trying to find his balance. “What happened?”

“I think that’s a story for another time, my friend. For now, just know the Reapers are gone and you are back in the Sol system, your crew is safe and you need to rest. You’ve had a rough couple of weeks, just rest.”

“Shepard.” He managed as he opened his eyes again. This time focusing on his superior’s face. “Where?”

“She’s fine, Garrus. Injured, but making solid progress towards recovery. I know she’s excited to see you, but you need to rest first.”

“Why isn’t… she here?” He forced out through clenched teeth.

Victus looked away to consider his answer. “She’s recovering, just like you are. You both needed an extra night.” He placed a hand on his friend’s good arm to reassure him. “I promise you that, when you wake up next, you will see her. Get some strength back.”

Garrus flinched away from Victus, only to be stopped by the restraints. He groaned and pulled against the bar hard one more time. “Let me go, Adrien.”

The Primarch shook his head and pressed the call button, a voice immediately came over the communication unit checking in to see if they were having an emergency. Thankfully for Garrus, his superior responded that it wasn’t but Doctor Mephran was needed shortly. They said he’d be called and along soon before cutting the call off.

“Need out of here.” He thrashed against the bindings. “Let me go!”

“I can’t. You need to recover and, if you don’t remain still, your arm might not heal properly.” Adrien had seen men afraid, he’d seen them broken down and giving up, but Garrus wasn’t giving up, he was still fighting. Even though he was scared out of his mind and in unimaginable pain, he was fighting. It hurt to see him like this, chained down and thrashing, and he had to make it stop.

He watched the flash of betrayal in the young Vakarian’s eyes and frowned. “Have I ever lied to you, Garrus?”

The fighting stopped, the younger turian thinking about it before shaking his head once. “No.” His breaths were still coming hard and they fogged up his mask. “Need to see her.” He said the truth of the matter coming forwards.

“You will. I promise. But she needs to see you strong, Garrus. Not like this. Trust me just one more time, alright?” Garrus gave a reluctant nod and let himself go slack against the restraints, the tension seeping out of his body as he tried to relax back into the bed. “How are you feeling?” He huffed a laugh, and Victus leaned back in his chair a hand brushing over his fringe. “That good, then?” Again, Garrus said nothing. Instead he shut his eyes and took a few shaky breaths. “You’re at Huerta Memorial on the Citadel, if you were wondering.”

Garrus nodded once, his eyes opening back up and slowly coming to focus on the Primarch. “What… happened?”

“You’ll have to tell me where to start.”

“Earth? Reapers.”

Victus resettled himself in the chair and leaned forwards, elbows on his knees, so that he could speak whilst being easily in Garrus’ view. “We still aren’t entirely sure ourselves, but I’ll tell you what I can. The Crucible activated some kind of red beam that swept across the Milky Way and beyond, as far as we can tell. It deactivated anything that is based on Reaper technology. The relays, Geth, Cerberus troops, the Reapers themselves. Everything.”

He paused to let that sink in. “Shepard was found at the heart of the Citadel after the battle, her cybernetics had gone into hibernation and it took Ms. Lawson’s appearance to set them right. She did the same with yours today, that’s why you hadn’t been able to feel your arm. How is it doing now?”  

“Hurts.” He replied as more of a grunt than a word.

“I know, Garrus.” He didn’t have time to say more before there was a gentle knock at the door, the doctor had arrived. “Doctor Mephran.” Victus greeted as he stood.

He wasn’t looking at his friend at the time, so he missed Vakarian tense at the use of the doctor’s name. The turian approached the bed and placed a bag down on the nightstand. Garrus flinched away from his hand. “Where’s Chakwas?” His voice muffled by the oxygen mask.

“She’s sleeping, Advisor Vakarian,” Mephran replied gently. “I know last time I treated you wasn’t pleasant, but, this time, the pain is already over. In a few days, we’ll fit you with a new prosthetic plate, here.” He pressed his hand to his own shoulder as a mirror for Garrus.

Victus looked from his charge to the doctor and back. Obviously, the younger turian was uncomfortable with the trauma doctor. “Mephran, perhaps we should rouse the  _ Normandy _ ’s physician.”

He shook his head. “She’s been running herself ragged taking care of not only Vakarian, but a full team of asari commandos. She needs her rest.” He turned back to his patient. “I need to check your sutures and get a blood sample, the Primarch will stay, Garrus. You have my word, I won’t do anything else. Alright?”

Garrus seemed to think on it for a moment before nodding slightly. He looked from Mephran to Victus and held his gaze for a moment before looking away from them both and out the dim window. Adrien brought his hands up to scrub his face, he was sick of being out of the loop and seeing his friend hurting. He crossed to the opposite side of the bed so that Garrus could see him easily and knelt down to his level. “It’s over now. Just rest, my friend. When you wake up, I’ll take you to see your mate myself.”

The doctor made quick work of checking Garrus over and getting his sample. With Victus keeping him distracted, the doctor was able to inject the sedative without incident. Only when Vakarian’s vitals stabilized, did he relax. “Thank you, Primarch. I don’t think he would have let me do that without you.”

“You owe me an explanation, Doctor.” Victus cut him off. “You said he had unpleasant memories from when he last saw you, but you didn’t tell me he’d panic. Explain.” His tone was not one to be trifled with.

The older turian sighed. “I told you I set his pelvic plates. I thought that would have been obvious enough.” At Victus’ raised brow ridge he continued. “He’d just been violently raped and refused to be put under while I forced his plates back into alignment. See these scars?” He asked and pointed to the gouges on his lower abdomen after he pulled back the sheet. “These are from the clamps his torturers used to pry them open and keep them open in the first place.” His voice had risen in anger during the explantation so now the room seemed eerily quiet.

Victus was speechless. Having now heard it outloud… it was disastrous.

“See?” The doctor said quietly after he had gotten himself under control. “That’s why I didn’t go into detail. Garrus wakes up tied down to a gurney, aching like he hasn’t since Omega, his throat raw from screaming, and then he sees me. I know my face isn’t a welcome sight. We’ve seen each other once since then, but, again, it wasn’t a pleasant situation.”

Finally, Adrien seemed to find some words. “I need the whole story now. I want to help him, but I need to understand. You seem to know more than anyone else, and actually seem willing to tell me.”

Mephran crossed his arms across his chest and sighed deeply. “I’ll give you three questions. That’s it.”

“Alright.” He replied. “That’s fair. Why was he tortured?”

“For information, no doubt. But I know that isn’t what you are looking for.” He paused a moment trying to find the right words. “He managed to piss off the wrong people on an undercover mission. I believe it involved the Blue Suns and the Blood Pack, but I never did get a straight answer of who specifically. Or what the information they wanted was.”

“What was this mission?”

He paced the room trying to piece together what he could. “I don’t know the details of that, either. Just that he spent a little over two years on Omega, building a team then fighting the gangs.”

“Are you suggesting what I think you’re suggesting?” Victus asked before he realised the words that were coming out of his mouth. “Wait, no. That isn’t my third question.”

“I think that’s enough for now as it is, Primarch. He’ll tell you if you ask him directly. Until he’s better though? Let those demons rest.”

+-+-+-+

Castis Vakarian nearly fell into his chair. Since the afternoon, he’d been running himself ragged with the muster. The execution had been nearly perfect, all ranks had made it to battle stations within their allotted times. There had been two small collisions airborne in different sectors but minor damage was to be expected when untested ships moved back into orbit or back to battle lines. No one had been seriously injured and that was what mattered.

He’d spent the evening sorting out both his and the Primarch’s primary duties, issuing orders in his friend’s stead while Victus took care of his son. He’d known it should have been the other way around, but, considering he was on Earth and Adrien was already in orbit, he’d begrudgingly left the other man to the task.

_ Garrus had been closer with Adrien anyways _ , he thought to himself. Castis pulled up his messages, there was one from the Primarch’s assistant relaying his answers to the questions they’d sent up earlier. He ignored them all and scrolled to the bottom in an unusual move of sentimentality.

_ Is the Expert Reaper Advisor expected to recover? _

_-Yes. In time._

That was all the confirmation Vakarian needed. He let out the breath he’d been holding. His son was alive. The second part concerned him,  _ in time _ . What did that mean? Obviously, it meant that Garrus had been injured or was suffering from some sort of malady. They’d already guessed at malnutrition, but that would just be the start of it. He’d been evacuated for a reason.  

He growled low in his throat at his own helplessness. His assistant poked his head in but quickly turned tail when he was waved off. It took a lot for the Vakarian Patriarch to get angry but, when he did, he was a force to be reckoned with.

Castis tried to get back to work, but quickly realised he would be useless without knowing a little more. He pulled up his omnitool and typed out a message to his daughter, at least she was on the station. She might have spoken to a doctor or maybe, if he was lucky, she’d have seen him.

_ CV: Solana, I got word that he’s alive from the Primarch, but nothing more. Relay status when able. _

He closed out the application. He’d work until he got something back. If the news came back less than favorable, he’d head for the docks. Work be damned. He spent his entire life working, he’d missed enough of his family’s lives. He’d missed the signs when his wife started getting sick. He missed both Solana’s departure and subsequent graduation from the academy. He hadn’t been there to help Garrus with his grief before he disappeared for two years and turned up with half his face missing.

The senior Vakarian’s hands smoothed over his fringe as he blew out a breath. He hadn’t been the best father to his children, nor the best husband. It was too late to fix the past. But at least now he could do better. Try harder. He’d started doing just that when Garrus returned, then again when Sol got hurt in the war. He wasn’t about to stop now.

He jerked in surprise when his omnitool buzzed on his wrist.

_ SV: Dad… he’s out of surgery and resting. It’ll be a rough go they said, but he is going to live. They won’t let me see him, but the Primarch is with him. I just finished speaking with the doctor. _

_ CV: Thank the spirits. Why won’t they let you in? _

_ SV: I don’t know. They said he needs to rest first, something about waiting until he is sleeping properly. I want to see him dad. _

Castis swallowed his anger at the doctor’s reluctance to let Solana see her brother. There must be some good reason for it. Something they didn’t know.

_ CV: Patience, Sol. They can’t keep you out forever. What did they say was wrong? _

_ SV: The doctor said he’d send a full report to Command, but the short version? He had shrapnel in his chest, needed surgery to remove it. Suffered smoke inhalation during the war, it was left mostly untreated since. He’s malnourished and dehydrated. _

_ SV: Dad? _

_ SV: Are you ok? _

_ CV: I’m here. Sorry. That’s a lot to take in. I should be able to head to the Citadel in the morning. Do what you can. Help his mate if you can’t be with him and try to get some rest. _

_ SV: Ok. You rest too, you’ve probably been going non-stop. _

_ CV: Goodnight, Sol. I love you. _

_ SV: You too, papa. _

He closed his omnitool and carefully stood up from his desk. Solana hadn’t called him that since she was a pup. Things must be rough up there, he figured. It only made his resolve harden. He would finish things here and go to his children. He was done missing out on their lives. Especially when they were almost ripped away from him yet again.

+-+-+-+ 

A low groan was the first thing that Garrus registered. He, belatedly, realised it was coming from his own throat. Waking up like this was becoming quite the bad habit. Groggy and hurting… he really shouldn’t be getting used to those feelings. The lights in the room were too bright, as usual, but this time they weren’t that bright white typical of medbay lighting. The tone they gave off was a little too soft to be those from the  _ Normandy _ ’s medical bay, or even the  _ Benjamin Davis’ _ .

With a jolt, he opened his eyes fully. Memories were coming back and he realised he wasn’t on a ship at all. He was in a hospital. The turian forced himself up nary an inch before hands pressed his shoulders gently back down. Someone was talking to him, saying something… something important… he shook his head once to clear the cotton from his ears.

“...look... me… right here. Breathe. Garrus… look at…” The world started to come into focus. The sentences started to come together, her face came into focus. “Garrus, deep breaths. That’s it. Focus on me.”

“Sol…” He managed to croak.

“That’s right.” She smiled at him. Her blue colony markings became bold lines across her face as the blurriness left. “Focus on me. You’re in the hospital, do you remember how you got here?” He nodded once. “Good, that’s really good.”

“You’re alive…” He whispered.

Her smile got a little softer and she brushed a hand over his fringe. “That’s my line. Dad’s ok too, he’s not here yet, but he will be.” She looked up and across the room towards the door. “I should call the doctor in.”

Her brother shook his head. “Not yet.” He raised his hand and was a little surprised to find it unbound. “How long was I out?” He asked, his voice muffled by the mask over his mouth and nose.

“The  _ Normandy _ docked yesterday, you were in surgery, then slept up until now. So, about twenty hours.” He nodded again before he flexed his right hand, wincing at the stiffness still lingering there. “You can move your hand, that’s a good sign. Miranda was concerned about it when she stopped in earlier.”

“Lawson?” He asked.

The female turian nodded. “Yes. She operated on you yesterday with Doctor Mephran, he said he knew you…” She narrowed her eyes at him when he grew stiff at the mention of the turian’s name. She let it drop though, now wasn’t the time for an interrogation.

Without warning, he tried to sit up again. “If Lawson’s here that means Shepard is too.” He got halfway into a seated position before Solana pulled him back down. It wasn’t particularly difficult to do considering his condition, but it wasn’t like Solana was helpless against her big brother normally.

“No you don’t. You need to rest. You can barely sit up on your own, let alone walk. Rest, Garrus.” He collapsed back as she pulled him down. His heart rate had risen and his breathing became ragged as he tried to fight against his sister one more time. “For Spirits sake, Garrus. Just this once, listen to me and lie back down. I almost lost you again and I don’t think I can handle it. Please, just rest. I know you want to see your mate, but right now your health takes priority.”

That did it. Garrus stopped struggling and he brought his hands up to rub at his face. “You win…” He said quietly. 

“Well, that’s a first.” She replied lightly. 

“Solana? Did you say mate?” He asked carefully. At her nod he took a sharp breath. “How did you...”

She cut him off. “Doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is I know and I don’t care who makes you happy, so long as you’re alive.” She changed the subject quickly. “How’re you feeling?” He turned his head slightly more towards her and lifted his hand so he could make eye contact with a raised brow. “That good, huh? Can I get you anything since you don’t want the doctor?”

The injured turian thought about it for a moment, and, immediately, he wanted to say a stim, but just as quickly, he shoved that thought away. If Sol didn’t know about his drug usage yet, he wanted to keep it that way. Instead, he pulled the breathing mask off his face and managed to say. “Water?”

“Of course.” She lifted a glass from the nightstand and held it out to him. He raised his left hand to take it, but, when he tried to grasp it, he realised how much his hands were shaking. He pressed the glass back into her hand. Sol frowned. “It’s ok, Garrus, I can help you.” She leaned forwards to do just that, but didn’t get any further than placing her hand on his shoulder before he flinched away. Immediately, she recoiled with an apology.

“No… no, Sol. It’s not you.” He paused, not knowing how to explain it to her.

“I understand, G.” She put the glass back down and took his talons in her own. “It’s been a rough go for a while, hasn’t it?”

He let out the breath he’d been holding, immensely thankful that she didn’t push the issue. “Yeah… I guess it has.” They sat in silence for a few minutes, the Vakarian siblings’ hands together. Without warning, Garrus yawned and Solana joined in a moment later.

She laughed, it was a light sound. Something Garrus hadn’t heard enough of in the past few months. “I guess that means our visit is over, then, doesn’t it?”

“Stay?” He asked tentatively.

“I will,” she said with a smile and a nod. “Just rest. I have a feeling you’ve earned it.” She leaned forwards and nuzzled against his shoulder while replacing the breathing mask. He made an effort to squeeze her hand a little tighter before he began to drift off again. Sleep claiming him quicker than it should have.

It was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it, but he was sure of the words even as his breaths slowed and his eyes became heavy. “I’m so glad you came back, I don’t know what we’d have done if you didn’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction Recommendation: Loyalty Mission by Felinafullstop http://archiveofourown.org/works/6004963 . GarrusXThane? WHAT!


	9. You're back

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More familiar faces, and the only one Shepard wants to see.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maybe we're finally going to see a real reunion? Have to read it to find out!!
> 
> Thanks again to my wonderful beta, Squiggly_Squid.

Chapter 9

+-+-+-+

The coming hours were quite busy on the Citadel. And on Earth, for that matter. Primarch Victus retook command of the fleets from the Citadel and Admiral Hackett kept those still on Earth in check. The first successful relay tests had been conducted that morning, right on schedule. They’d managed a probe launch and the next test, scheduled for the next day in fact, would be a ship.

By now the scout ships had managed to get to all of the homeworlds. Even to Thessia. QEC units had been reconnected and regular contact could now be established. As soon as the relays were working they would be able to start sending everyone home.

The destruction was as expected on the other worlds. Major centers all but destroyed but the majority of the farmlands were relatively untouched. Palaven fared the worst it seemed, from the initial estimates but that was mostly due to the fact it was the main source of dextro amino acid foods and supplies. Thankfully the quarians agreed to help them replenish in exchange for help on Rannoch.

All everyone seemed to need was a little good news. With the reappearance of the  _ Normandy _ , and for the humans specifically the  _ Benjamin Davis _ , everyone seemed to work a little harder towards their combined goals.

Plans were set in motion for travel home. The center of operations for all species for now would be the Citadel, in Sol. They had no way of moving it yet. Not with the massive amount of damage the larger ships had sustained in the final battle. All those that had helped to conceal and tow the Crucible required time in dry dock first. It would be moved back to Widow, but in time.

Like everything it seemed.  _ In time _ was the answer.

Castis, the proper turian that he was, secured transportation the second his groundside tasks were completed. Anything that was possible to do from the Citadel or pass over to another party he did. A few of the better informed staff knew why he was so eager to get moving but thankfully they kept silent about it.

He hadn’t slept yet so he ended up using the shuttle ride to catch a quick two hours. It wasn’t much but it would be enough until he’d seen Garrus. He was the first person off the shuttle save his guard. It seemed anyone with a title had at least one soldier assigned to them after this damned war.

The retired investigator was somewhat surprised to see a contingent of C-Sec Officers waiting on the promenade when he disembarked. He recognized many of the faces, including that of the new executor. Chellick greeted him with a standard salute which he accepted. “Vakarian sir, allow us to transport you. Primarch Victus has secured a boardroom for the time being. He’s eager for your report.”

To anyone watching it seemed like a fair request, the Primarch requiring his chief of security. But Castis knew this little play on words was their way of hiding his son’s identity from the press. So far his name hadn’t been leaked but it wouldn’t be long. Having the support of his, and coincidentally his son’s, old department hit him hard. It took nearly all he had left to thank the Executor and allow himself to be escorted to his son’s side.

He grasped arms with a few of his old coworkers and subordinates on his walk past them. They passed on salutes and well wishes for both him and Garrus. By the time he reached the squad car he realised that each and every one of those officers had worked alongside him at one point or another, he knew every face. The thought was as sobering as it was comforting.

Decian climbed into the car first and Castis followed closely behind. His guard getting into the front seat. The door barely closed before they lifted off and sped towards the hospital. “That was unexpected. Thank you.”

The Executor shook his head. “As soon as they heard you were on the way here and who the turian diplomat was I couldn’t stop them sir.” He shrugged. “Solana’s eager to have you there. She wasn’t allowed to see him until this morning.”

He hummed in agreement. “We had been messaging. Is there anything I should know beyond the report?”

He hesitated then asked a leading question. “Have you seen his scars before?” At the slow nod Decian clarified. “I mean besides those on his face.”

“Now that you mention it? No.” Castis surprised himself with that answer but he honestly couldn’t say that he had seen his son without a shirt since his injuries. He figured they continued down onto his shoulder and arm, knew that he had some cybernetics implanted but hadn’t ever questioned it.  

The Executor’s sub vocals rumbled in discomfort. “Then it may be a bit of a shock when you first see him. The new ones aren’t bad.” He tried to reassure the older turian. “It’s those that are long healed that will make you uncomfortable.”

“I’m going to need a little context, Chellick.”

“He didn’t tell you where he went between leaving Spectre training and turning up on Palaven, did he?” Castis shook his head once. “Well, whatever it was ended badly. I’ll let you make your own determination but I’ll leave it at this, those methods of interrogation are illegal for a reason.”  

He stiffened, his hand curling into a fist. When he finally did speak his tone wasn’t one to be argued with. “Are you suggesting my son was tortured, Decian?” The Executor nodded once, the firm confirmation needed no more than that. Castis below out a harsh breath, all semblance of formality dropped by now. “That would explain lot. Spirits help us.” He looked up from the hole he was staring into the floor, “Anything else?”

“No sir. Everything else is as per the report, his older scarring was overlooked. I am guessing by design. The only indication of where he spent those years was a slip by one of his old crewmates, the one who installed the cybernetics Ms. Lawson. She said he was on Omega.”

“I’m sure if we are meant to know we’ll find out soon enough.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing the tiredness from his eyes as the driver started the landing procedure. “Is the Primarch expecting me?”

“Just Solana. Primarch Victus said he could wait until you’d had some time.” He stood as the car halted. “I’ll take you to them.”

And so Chellick did. He led him through the same back halls that he had taken the Primarch through just a day ago, yet it seemed like ages. When they arrived at the door he gestured inside with a single hand, halting beside the C-Sec guard at the doors. Giving the retired officer the privacy he deserved.

Castis stepped into the quiet room, Solana perking up at his entry. She was sitting at Garrus’ side, her talons wrapped in his. Instead of making her leave him he crossed the room to lean in and give his daughter a quick nuzzle in greeting. Usually he wasn’t an affectionate man but this situation warranted extra care.

Garrus was sleeping soundly, a sheet pulled up over his keel. Now looming over his son he could see the marking that Decian had been kind enough to give him warning of. He doubted anyone gave Solana the same courtesy. He was sickened by those deep lines but forced his eyes away, to the man’s face where he could see the calm of sleep.

Though he had a mask over his mouth and nose, and scars bisecting his colony markings he saw the same face he’d fallen in love with nearly 35 years ago. They’d had their differences but that didn’t stop the love he felt, the pride in his son following such adversity. It took all he had to stay standing. His hand closing around his daughter’s shoulder for a few quiet minutes.

The first sob from Solana broke the dam. With her father here, the broken family completed she couldn’t hold back any longer. She keened in her relief, her sadness, her frustration. It had been so long, so hard. Suddenly Castis couldn’t help but fall to his knees and wrap his arms around his daughter. Trying to protect her even though there was nothing he could do.

A few moments later he felt a slightly pressure on his shoulder and looked up to see it was his son’s hand. He was obviously still shaking off the sleep but that single gesture meant the world. He was without words, only able to hold Garrus’ gaze and cover his hand with his own.

Solana was the one to break the silence. “You’re awake.”

“Working on it.” He replied with a voice rough from sleep. “Dad, you’re here.”

Castis stood up and pulled the chair over to sit down, giving himself a moment to collect himself. “I am. I should have been here sooner.”

“You’re here now.” He said closing his eyes tightly before opening them up and trying to focus on his family. “That’s good.”

Solana pulled her mandibles tight against her face. “You’re dizzy again.”

“Again?” Castis asked worried.

“He was when he woke up earlier too.” She explained. “This time I have to get the doctor Garrus, please.” He nodded once and Solana carefully extracted herself from her place by the bed. “I’ll give you two a minute while I go get Mephran.” She quickly wheeled to the door, with one look back and a small smile she left her brother and father alone. Solana had a feeling they might need it.

The sound of the door shutting behind her left the room quiet, neither occupant knowing quite what to say right away. “Is Solana alright?” Garrus asked. At Castis’ confused look he clarified, “The wheelchair.”

“She’s doing much better now. Bad break but healing.” The younger Vakarian hummed in understanding. After a minute the senior Vakarian placed a hand on the junior’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you in one piece Garrus.”

He huffed a laugh. “Barely…” He paused before adding, “Glad you’re here.”

“I should have been here sooner, I let work get in the way again.”

“Dad.” Garrus interrupted.

“No, let me speak.” Castis applied a slight pressure on his shoulder before releasing it. “I haven’t been the best parent to you and your sister, I want to do better. I’ve been trying since you came back from whatever hell you went through in those two years and I want you to tell me what happened when you are ready.” Garrus made to interrupt but Castis held up a hand and he stilled. “Until then rest and recover. Too much has been asked of you.”

The younger turian nodded slightly. “You may not believe me.” His tone was rough and voice muffled under the oxygen mask.

“I believed you when you brought me evidence of a race of giant sentient ships coming to destroy our galaxy, what makes you think I’d ignore what I can see plainly on your plates?”

Garrus stiffened, suddenly made aware of his half clothed state. He glanced down at his bare arms and swore. After a moment he added an apology. “Sorry, didn’t think you would ever see these.” He paused then groaned in further realisation. “Damn it, that means Solana’s seen them too.”

“Garrus, look at me.” Castis said softly. “Nothing that happened changes what you’ve done for the turian people, hell for the galaxy at large. I understand your reluctance to tell me where you were all that time and it will wait until you’re ready. What matters is you are here now, safe.”

He hummed in acceptance before letting the room go still and quiet again. It wasn’t two minutes before the doctor knocked on the door and entered, Solana waiting in the hall behind him. He greeted the Vakarians and got to work, the senior joining his daughter in the hallway after the initial scans. Garrus would explain what happened eventually, but right now the privacy as Mephran ran his tests and checked his wounds was appreciated.

+-+-+-+

Miranda sat in Shepard’s room, alone, the still sleeping Commander in front of her in bed. She truly wanted to keep her that way, but knew that an hour of activity wouldn’t really hinder her progress. It wouldn’t even be activity so much as it would be excitement. Right now, she was only asleep because of the heavy sedation. Otherwise, she’d be awake and talking and probably trying to get to her... partner. That term seemed the only one significant enough for their relationship, short of husband.  

With a slow sigh, she leaned forwards and cut off the IV drip line. It was nighttime and the only light in the room came from the dim glow of the floor lamp beside his bed. It was enough to read by and enough for her to watch as Shepard immediately began to wake up.  _ Typical Shepard _ , she thought to herself,  _ anyone else would need at least a half hour and here she was coming out of it in minutes. _

“Miranda?” Shepard asked sleepily as she opened her eyes. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

The ex-operative couldn’t help her slight smile as Jane yawned. “We’re going to take a short field trip.” Suddenly, bright eyes met her own, every ounce of sleep washed from her face. “I’ve arranged for you to at least see him.”

Shepard sat up with a little help. “Thank you. What changed your mind?”

“I promised you’d see him as soon as he was able. He’s taking a little longer than I expected, but that’s probably because his sister is there telling him the same thing I was telling you, to wait until he’s better.”

“If she’s anything like her brother, then I don’t doubt it,” Shepard replied with a smirk. “How are we going to do this?”

Lawson pulled back the covers to reveal Shepard’s new prosthetic. “Ideally, you should be able to stand and help me get you into this chair.”

“It looks good, Miranda,” the Commander replied as she carefully levered herself to the edge of the bed. She had been less upset about the loss of her leg than Miranda had expected, her first reaction upon it’s discovery beyond a scowl was,  _ Can you make me a new one? _

“I’ll build you a real one once you’ve recovered, but it should do for now.” She held her arms out to help Jane stand and she did it. She had to rest a fair amount of weight on Miranda, but that was alright. Carefully, Shepard sat down in the chair and Miranda then took the time to readjust her oxygen and IV lines, she’d transferred them to portable units while the Commander had been sleeping.

They rolled through the halls silently; Grunt, James and Kasumi clearing the way ahead of them. When they arrived in the turian ward a few minutes later, they met with Decian Chellick at the doors to Garrus’ room. “Commander, it’s good to see you awake.”

She smiled. “Detective, or should I say Executor? It’s nice to see you too. Is everything alright?” She indicated to the door.

“It is, I relieved the guard on duty so you’d have some privacy. He’s alone and sleeping, his father and sister were sent to bed about an hour ago. The doctor mentioned he’s under sedation to make sure he’s asleep through the night.”

“Guard?” She questioned.

“Protection detail, not detainment. You’ve got one yourself between clan Urdnot and C-Sec.” He explained stepping aside. “I’ll be here if you need anything.”

She accepted the explanation with a glance at Grunt who shrugged and muttered,  _ Battlemaster _ . “Understood. Thank you, Chellick.” Miranda pressed the door control and it slid open quietly to admit the two of them into the room. Her escorts waited in the hall with the Executor.

The room was as dim as hers had been, and there was a privacy screen between Garrus and the door. Around it, she could see the base of the bed, his feet under a heavy blanket. Miranda moved her chair slowly but without pause into the chamber. The lamp cast long shadows in the room as it flickered in artificial candle light.

Her breath caught in her throat when she was able to lay eyes on him, his battered form supine on the bed. Miranda rolled her to the edge of the bed and left without a word. She’d be back soon, Shepard knew that, thus there was nothing additional to say. So she allowed the Commander and her partner a piece of privacy. If only for an hour.

For the first few minutes Jane couldn’t take her eyes off of him, the scars seemed more prominent than they had been on both his face and chest. She figured the rest of him looked the same but couldn’t tell as he was covered by a blanket from mid keel down. There were a few fresh bandages, the largest of which spotted with the midnight blue colour of dried turian blood.

Her hand soon found it’s way to his cheek, a careful caress along his jaw calming her more than she thought possible. It was real, she was actually here with Garrus. The tears came to her eyes unbidden but did not fall. This wasn’t the time for them. A content smile crossed her lips, he was alive and was suddenly all that mattered.

Shepard hadn’t wanted to leave but, when she’d fallen asleep upright in her chair with her hand clasped in his, she hadn’t the strength left to argue. Miranda promised they would see each other again soon. The walk back to the Commander’s own room was just as quick and silent as the initial trip, except this time James carefully lifted her into bed despite the mild protest.

It would get easier, Miranda had explained, and the more she slept now, the quicker some semblance of normality would return.

+-+-+-+

Admiral Hackett sat in his office chair feeling more refreshed this morning than he had since the Reapers hit. Finally, he’d had a good night’s sleep. Twenty-two days since the final push and just two since the  _ Normandy _ had reappeared and everything was falling into place. There was still a long way to go, a very long way, but at least the worst was over.

The destruction on each and every colonized world was devastating, and that was unlikely to change for a couple of years. Not to mention the damage to the populations of those worlds. Their estimates were now able to place casualties around the 60% mark, with 35% of those being deceased and 10% grievously injured. It was going to take every man, woman, and child left to bring the galaxy back from the brink of extinction.

Today, though? Hackett was smiling. Today was the first wave of send offs.

The salarians would be the first to depart, taking with them a great deal of tension. The krogan had, thus far, been playing nice, but even Wrex debated if he could hold his men back from violence against the salarians much longer. It was convenient that their people had also made great headway with their own relay before the scout ships arrived. The salarians were leaving a decently sized team to work with the quarians and other scientists on the Geth, and would dispatch STG teams to the other systems to help with repairs as soon as arrangements could be made.

The next to go would be the asari, followed by two days of assorted species including krogan, batarians, vorcha, hanar, and elcor. The turians, quarians, and volus would be last to leave in four day’s time. That separation gave extra time for those in command to settle affairs and pass duties accordingly. Each species had their own homeworld to work with and each agreed to share resources according to their strengths.

From brute force to brains and everyone in between, recovery efforts needed anyone who could hold a hammer. Hackett wasn’t so naive as to think humanity was exempted from these tasks, so he was also preparing to dispatch ships to the other homeworlds. Ones that could help with the cleanup. The tasks laid out before them would be great, but together they would get through it. They owed it to those they’d lost and those still fighting.

The Admiral’s assistant knocked on his door, he called her in and let the day begin. She had Admiral Zorah on the com ready for an update on the Geth. Maybe more good news would follow, all he could do was keep faith as they trudged through it together.

+-+-+-+

That day passed too quickly. Shepard slept soundly, the short excursion from the night before taking enough energy out of her to guarantee uninterrupted rest. Miranda was quite pleased that she was finally getting proper sleep and hadn’t seemed to be fighting to wake up. Physically being with her partner had satisfied what words could not.

Grunt spent most of the day dozing beside the Commander, as usual. Tamara and her father came by to visit and to relieve him in the early afternoon hours; Trek nearly had to force the younger krogan out for some proper rest and a meal. The leader of Aralakh was very attached to his Battlemaster and needed reminding at times that he needed to take care of himself to remain strong for her.

The young asari had been by nearly every day since she’d found the Commander. Even though they’d never actually spoken, she felt attached. So far, she had only been present once since Shepard woke up, the very first time. Tamara hoped she would be able to meet her properly one of these days, but today wouldn’t be it. Grunt had already expressed enough gratitude on her behalf, but he said that Shepard would want to do it herself when the timing worked out. Until then, though? She would sit quietly and keep her company while not working with the recovery teams.

It had been an interesting adventure over the past few weeks. She’d met a number of the Commander’s old crew and friends. She and Doctor Michelle still checked in with each other from time to time, and she’d started spending more evenings with Decian than without him. Her father hadn’t been overly impressed with her spending so much time with a turian, but, then again, it wasn’t his decision.

The young asari was finally happy. And that is all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fanfiction Reccommendation: Someone Special, Strings Attached by RaeDMagdon, http://archiveofourown.org/works/10609230. VetraXRyderXPeebee. One of the few ME:A stories I've liked so far.


	10. Blown out of Proportion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The stress is eating at everyone, and something small can easily get blown of proportion.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Keep those comments coming lovely people! And... I'm sorry for this one.

Chapter 10 +-+-+-+

He knew he wasn’t supposed to be up yet. He knew he looked like hell, but he couldn’t stay away any longer. With a little help from the thief extraordinaire, he’d managed to escape from his room undetected. Even with the IV still connected to his arm and his portable oxygen mask from the  _ Normandy _ in place. It was late evening, so the halls were fairly empty and, with Kasumi leading, they ran into no one.

Standing guard at the doors were two krogan; Grunt and another male that he didn’t recognize. He said nothing, but placed his hand appreciatively on the young Urdnot’s shoulder. The massive adolescent gave him a nod, he seemed to understand the anticipation of his battlemaster’s mate.  

Garrus took a tentative step forwards. He felt as though his heartbeat was both slowing down and racing at the same time. Each step he took was in slow motion, but, finally, he touched the door control. His breath caught as it slid open to reveal her private room. Once he was inside, the door closed automatically behind him.

The room was sparse. No decorations adorned the walls or the furniture. Medical equipment surrounded the single bed by the window. A cot was in the opposing corner near the bathroom. A chair sat at her bedside, the fabric well worn with use. The Presidium glistened outside with the synthetic sunset, and his eyes caught the slight blue flicker of kinetic shielding every so often. G _ ood, she’s been protected _ .

His eyes fell on her last, and he had to use his IV stand to keep himself steady at the sight of her.

A crisp white blanket was pulled up over her abdomen. Her arms were sitting over the blanket at her sides, new scars mixed in with the old, and a bandage still covering her left shoulder even after a month’s time. Her right arm had equipment hooked up to it, not unlike what he’d had on the  _ Normandy, _ and again now that he’d arrived on the Citadel. Even from his place beside the door, he could watch the calm rise and fall of her chest.

He steeled himself and finally looked at her face. His beautiful Jane was right there. Through the tattered mess of what remained of her hair and the still dark purple bruising around her eyes, she was there. He almost couldn’t believe his eyes. He took another few steps towards her, and, by the time he got to the chair, he could hardly keep himself on his feet. He sat heavily and took a few more steadying breaths. His Jane was alive.

The turian fumbled with his makeshift oxygen mask, he’d been off it since sneaking out of his room. If Karin, or, Spirits forbid, Mephran, found out, they’d be angry with him. Shepard had one in her nose, though it was properly fitted and new, unlike his own. He sat in the quiet for a few minutes, unable to do anything but watch her breathe.

Garrus didn’t know how much time passed, but he eventually got up the nerve to hold her hand. He removed his glove and took her tiny, too many fingered, hand into his own larger one. It was softer than he remembered, maybe the calluses had dulled in her sleep. It was cooler than his own, but she’d assured him that humans just ran cooler and it was normal. He couldn’t help but smile at the memory, he’d been so concerned that day in her cabin.

He still couldn’t force himself to speak. He wanted to but couldn’t trust his voice. So the Great Archangel watched over his bondmate, silently waiting at her side. Waiting for something to happen.

He, too, waited a long time.

+-+-+-

Some time later, Miranda came in to check on her patient. The ex-Cerberus Operative was improving quickly, her walk was firm and the dark circles under her eyes had started to dissipate. She didn’t say a word to Garrus, just quietly worked around him. He glanced up once, but, other than that, seemed to ignore her presence which suited her just fine. She wouldn’t have known what to say, Garrus knew the Commander's condition was stable and that she just needed sleep in order to heal quicker. She did, however, know he wasn’t supposed to be out of bed but ignored that fact as well.

Lawson didn’t rush her routine but didn’t dottle. Within fifteen minutes, she was gone again without a word. Garrus’ shoulders dropped slightly when she left, his exhaustion was beginning to poke through the tough exterior.

Soon after, the artificial sun outside set completely and he couldn’t keep himself awake any longer. Resting on his arms, he fell asleep at Shepard’s side, her hand still wrapped in his. No one dared bothered them that night, and it wasn’t until morning that Garrus woke to a gentle knock on the door.

He sat up groggily and heard the door open behind him. Doctor Chakwas and Operative Lawson entered together, each moving to their patient. Miranda was quickly knee deep in charts and Karin busied herself fitting him with an actual oxygen tube in his nose in lieu of his makeshift portable mask. “Your sister is here, Garrus. I think she’d like to see you.” The doctor mentioned as she worked.

The turian nodded. He was torn, but there was nothing he could do here. He really hadn’t seen his sister since Palaven months ago. He did see her for a few minutes when he first woken up in the hospital, but that had been it. He also knew she’d been injured, which made the decision for him. His voice was rough from disuse but he turned to the other woman. “Miranda? Will you stay with her?”

“Of course. When I’m finished, one of the other squadmates will join her. She won’t be left alone.” He looked from Miranda to Shepard and back. “We’ve got her on sedatives, so she won’t wake up for a couple more hours. You have some time, use it.”

“Yeah… ok.” Garrus agreed as the doctor unclipped the IV lines from his arm. He waited a few moments for the dizziness to pass before he finally stood up and followed Chakwas out of the room. He still hated needles, even leaving his body, so the small dizzy spell didn’t surprise him.

Their pace was slow as they walked to the elevator and stepped inside. He glanced back at the Commander’s door once more before the elevator door closed, noting that Grunt was waiting outside again with Kasumi who waved before she disappeared under her cloak.

When they exited the lift, Karin spoke up. “I should be telling you to go back to bed, but Solana is waiting for you at Apollo’s cafe, head there when you’re ready. And, for god’s sake, eat something.”

Garrus agreed and, after washing up, quickly in the bathroom he headed out. James was waiting for him on the railing nearby and greeted him merrily. “Scars! How’s it going, man?”

The turian couldn’t stop the slight smile. “Jimmy, keeping out of trouble, I see.” The men clasped hands and the human pulled the turian in for what he called a  _ bro hug _ . “You here as an escort or a friend?”

“Both.” Vega replied honestly. “It was me, a C-Sec guard, or some other Alliance guy, Kuen?” He shrugged. “Here, I’ve got a few things for you.” He passed over a bag and bumped his omnitool to Garrus’ to pass a data packet over. “Might want to attach the personal shield generator now, there’s a service pistol in there for you as well. Though, I can see you’re already packing.” The krogan like human gestured at the slight bulge under his bad arm where a pistol sat inside his tunic.

Garrus quickly geared up and they made their way to the cafe. “Thanks,” he said when they were about halfway to their destination. James tried to shrug him off, but the turian insisted. “No. Really, I appreciate it. Bringing me some gear, taking care of my sister and Shepard. Not asking how I’m holding out. I needed this.”

“You’ve got enough on your plate as it is. No need to thank me. Plus, you saved my ass enough times for this to even begin to call us even.”

Now Garrus was a little skeptical. “What did you do, Jimmy?”

“I… uh… nothing.” He replied, but, when the turian stopped and crossed his arms, the human caved, speaking much too quickly in his admission. “I might have maybe let it slip to your sister that you might have actually been doing something stupid in those years after Shepard disappeared and maybe might have said something like you were on Omega or maybe that you were Archangel…” His run on sentence was cut off by Solana calling out to them from the restaurant.

“You told her WHAT?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna just go grab a coffee… call me if you need anything!” He hurried off to the counter and Garrus was left in Solana’s line of fire.

“Garrus!” She called out as she rolled over towards him, he met her halfway and wasn’t quite quick enough to avoid the jab to the ribs as she stopped. “You asshole! Don’t ever scare me like that again!”

He winced and held his abdomen as he tried to catch his breath. “Damn, Sol. That right of yours has gotten a lot meaner than I remember.” He leaned down and pulled her into a hug, nuzzling into her shoulder like when they were children. “Where’s dad?” He asked when he pulled back.

Sol reluctantly released her brother and they made their way to her table. “He’s working. Busy as hell, but doing alright. We are lucky he got those few hours yesterday, the Primarch has him heading security for the time being.” Garrus sat heavily in his chair and grabbed his piping hot mug, the tremble in his hand still present, but not nearly so bad as the day before. “The krogan got us off Palaven and we arrived in the system just before the final battle. Once the dust started to settle, dad found Victus and sent me here.”

She dug into her breakfast and waited for Garrus to say something. After a short time, he did. “I’m glad you’re alive. Both of you. But what happened to your leg?”

His sister finished her mouthful before responding with a question of her own. “What happened to your face?”

He couldn’t help the small chuckle. “Point taken.”

“Archangel. Really, Garrus? At least that explains the scars. You’re lucky I haven’t told dad yet.”

He winced at her scars comment but was grateful he could tell his father in his own time. “Yeah, thanks for that. I’ll give you the short version.” And so he did. He told her how he’d felt lost and frustrated and made his way to Omega to try to carry out Shepard’s legacy. How the team had started to appear and how they’d started kicking back, getting noticed, and scaring the mercenaries. He skimmed over the injuries and betrayal, only stating that they’d been found out and that he was lucky to get out alive.

“So wait… you weren’t bonded to Shepard yet?”

His smile was grim. “Not that I was aware of. We became best friends while we were hunting down Saren and the Geth. She convinced me to apply for Spectre training after that and I did. But after she was KIA, I realised my feelings weren’t necessarily platonic.”

“Oh, Garrus. I’m so sorry. I never knew.” She reached out a hand to cover his.

His eyes suddenly went wide and he stiffened. “So... how did you know that Shepard and I were together?”

“Dad told me.”

“DAD KNOWS?!”

“Yup. I think the Primarch accidently let it slip.”

“I am going to kill Adrien.” Garrus grumbled as he rubbed his free hand over his face.

Solana just laughed. “My brother on a first name basis with the Primarch. Never thought I’d see the day that happened. I wish mom could have seen it.” She trailed off.

He gave her hand a quick squeeze before pulling back and trying to eat a little more. He wasn’t used to real food so it was taking some time. After a quiet moment, he asked his original question again. “So, what happened to your leg?”

She laughed again, her sadness hidden back under a tightly controlled mask. “Oh, right. I guess you’ve earned that now. You know how father is. When the Reapers hit Palavan, we ran towards the fighting, not away. We armored up and met up with our civilian platoon leader as per the Expert Reaper Advisor’s instructions, I might add.” She smiled at Garrus who shrugged, single armed. “Evacuation was the primary objective, which, during the townhall meetings, some of the more vocal members of our group were displeased about. Although when we met up with the squad, they were the first to volunteer to evacuate with those who couldn’t stand and fight.”

“Seeing one of those things up close will do that to a soldier.” Garrus said. “As Shepard would say, it takes a special kind of stupid not to run when faced with that.”

“Like you?” She snorted. “I seem to remember you taking out two of these things before anyone else would even believe they existed.” He shrugged and she continued, “Well, we did what we could and held off those monsters the Reapers created and brought with them. I got ahead of myself about two weeks or so into the battle, let a Cannibal get too close. Dad nearly carried me back to the bunker, but we were low on medigel and other supplies so there wasn’t much he could do.

“I tried to get him to leave me but he refused. Eventually, we had a squad of twelve with us, seven others wounded like me with family or friends unwilling to leave them. Survived another week there, picking off stragglers from the main herd before supplies got too low and we had to move.”

She paused and took a sip from her mug, it seemed like she was trying to find her words. “We got maybe five clicks before we were found out. But the most unexpected thing happened, shuttles started dropping reinforcements less than an hour into the fight. The strangest part was they were krogan, Garrus.”

He let out the breath he didn’t know he was holding. “That fits with our timeline. I was on Menae when the Reapers hit. Spent a week there before Shepard showed up trying to find the Primarch for a war summit. Gaining krogan support was our top priority, glad to see it worked out.”

“Yeah, it worked out, alright. The tides turned immediately, we were actually starting to push back. Took another two weeks before we got evacuated and, even then, we spent a lot of time in space. Our freighter was well armed but slow and it needed fuel often. By the time we got to Widow, the Citadel was gone and the war was coming to a close. I don’t remember much from the freighter, infection set in and it took them a while to get it out. Took us running into a lone Quarian ship to get the help I needed.”

“Figures it would take impending extinction to make us all start cooperating.” He leaned back in his chair, half his meal still present but gone cold. He rubbed a hand over his fringe. “Damn, it’s good to see you, Sol.”

“You too, G. But you’ve got to eat a little more. Maybe the humans haven’t noticed, but I have, you are skinnier than I’ve ever seen you. And I knew you before you grew into your plates.”

He didn’t want her to worry so much so, instead of being honest about the near starvation, he manipulated the truth a little. “I’ve been on minimum rations for a month. It wasn’t easy, Solana. It’s going to take some time before I can actually eat more than a ration bar.”

With a nod, she let the topic drop, for now. “I can hold the Primarch and Dad off for an hour or two if you want to get back to the Huerta.”

“Yeah. That would be good.” He pushed himself back from the table and carefully stood up. A young quarian hurried over and began clearing their table. She refused the credit chit Garrus attempted to give her, stating it was an honor to serve War Heros and their table would be waiting when they needed it next. As they made their way to James, Garrus asked for clarification.

“The Executor introduced a few of the squad members to the owner and, ever since, whenever Grunt or whoever brings someone new over, they treat them the same way. It’s like they keep updating the VIP list or something.”

“Wonderful. I’ll see you later?” He reached down to hug his sister again and she nuzzled his shoulder.

“Yeah, take care, G. It’s good to have you back.”

Garrus and James headed back to the hospital. They walked slowly, James nursing a coffee as they went. The turian wouldn’t say it outloud, but he was thankful for the almost glacial pace. He was exhausted. By the time they reached the side doors, it was taking all he had not the crumble into the nearest chair. The human didn’t show any outward sign of support, but he carefully slowed his pace to match and stood in easy arm’s reach of his squadmate.

They reached the elevator and Garrus pressed the key for Shepard’s floor before leaning back against the wall, using it to support his weight. James made a face. “Hey, Scars? Isn’t your room in the turian ward?”

“I’m going to see Shepard.” He replied simply through a few slightly laboured breaths.

“Maybe a siesta first?” He tried, but Garrus shook his head. “Come on, man, you know you need sleep to get better. Don’t make me force you.”

He chuckled roughly. “Not you, too.” Vega just shrugged. “There was a cot in Shepard’s room, I’ll sleep there.”

He sighed but agreed to his terms. It would be easier to guard the two of them if they were together, he reasoned. Otherwise, they’d spend half their time trying to keep the love birds apart. “Fine, but when we get there you need to rest, alright?”

“Yeah.” He stifled a yawn. “Can’t really argue with you on that one.” The doors opened and the pair stumbled out, Garrus leaning on James to keep his balance. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

+-+-+-+

Shepard started waking up a few hours later and just after midday, if the lighting outside was any indication. She scrubbed her hands through her short hair, dishevelling it further. She was feeling much better than when she fell asleep, although she wasn’t quite sure how long ago that was. She looked around to find the chair beside her bed empty, and the window sill that usually held Kasumi also vacant. There was no wheelchair with Solana nor the looming presence of James or Grunt standing guard on the inside of the doors. For the first time since waking up in Huerta, she was alone.

It was weird.

She sat up a little further in bed. The process was slow, but at least it was possible for her to sit up on her own after over three weeks of mostly unconsciousness. The quiet was surprisingly welcome, if a little strange. She waited a few minutes before considering pressing the call button. Shepard turned to grab it when she heard a quiet grunt of discomfort.

That’s when she noticed it, the cot that Grunt occasionally slept in was moved. It was sitting behind a curtain, drawn between her bed and the bathroom. It wasn’t unusual for that curtain to be drawn, but the cot was usually on her side of it. She wasn’t alone, after all.

Without the ability to stand on her own two - or rather one real and one prosthetic - feet, she was left with the question of who exactly was sleeping in her room. Right now, she would have killed to get her omnitool back. She waited a few more minutes in the silence until she heard another noise of discomfort, this one distinctly turian.

“Hello?” She asked, her voice wavering slightly in anticipation. When he didn’t reply, she tried again a little louder. “Garrus? Is that you?”

She waited a moment and heard him beginning to wake up, he breathed in sharply then coughed. Her name fell from his lips. “Jane?” She could see the shadows shifting behind the curtain as he sat up.

“Garrus?” She asked again. Jane could see his darker figure grow taller as he stood and  smiled. He seemed to need a moment as she watched his shadow stand still before the curtain moved to admit him into her section of the room.

He froze at the sight of her. Sitting up on her own on the bed.

After nearly a solid minute, he seemed to realise he hadn’t moved and he closed the gap. Garrus half climbed into the bed, one leg still on the floor and the other on the bed beside her. His good arm wrapped around her shoulders and pulled her into his chest while the other loosely gripped her lower back. The movement was jarring for both of them, but her arms pulled him to her chest just as strongly.

“I thought I’d never see you again.” She whispered, voice wet.

“Nothing could keep me from you,” he replied. “I couldn’t live without you, not again.”

She laughed weakly. “Of course you could, not as stylishly of course.”

“It would have been like living without the stars.” He pulled her in a little tighter, his face nuzzling into her shoulder. They were silent a few breaths until the discomfort of their position started to get too great and he had to pull back. “I missed you.” He said, voice thick. He pulled back enough to take a seat in the chair that Grunt frequented but took her hand in his, not willing to part completely.

Her smile was sad as she nodded, tears slipping slowly down her cheeks. “It’s been too long. I woke up and they told me you were gone and I couldn’t breathe.”

He reached his hand up to caress her cheek softly with the back of his hand, Shepard leaned into the touch. “I’m here now, my love. I’m here now.” She carefully leaned down to press her forehead against his, revelling in the simple touch before he pressed his lips against hers. The slow kiss more passionate than any other they’d ever shared, filled with every fear, doubt and hope. The simple movement of lips against lips, tongue against tongue, released all the tension from the past few weeks, maybe months, maybe even years.

They moved apart to catch their breaths, but it wasn’t long before he was on her again, quicker this time. More needy than anything else as he nipped her lower lip. She gasped as he broke the new skin, but moaned into his mouth as he caressed the sore spot with his tongue. Her hands wove around his shoulders and his around her waist, both very careful of the other’s injuries.

When they parted, Shepard was panting. Garrus was breathless too, but for an entirely different reason. This time, her recognition was almost immediate, he was going into anaphylactic shock. The reaction to her blood from the split lip occurring more quickly than it had the first time, because the medication from his recent surgery and malnourishment must have destroyed whatever was left of that crucial part of his immune system. Doing the exact opposite of what would have happened to a human’s immune response, it went into overdrive.

Her hands flew to the emergency call button. Miranda’s voice coming back a second later. “Lawson here, go!”

The guards at the doors burst in at the same time, and it drew her attention for half a second before she replied, “it’s Garrus, he’s having an allergic reaction. Miranda, hurry! Please!”

“I’m on my way,” she said. Her breaths coming quickly as she ran through the halls. “Tell the C-Sec Officer to get Mephran.”

Shepard looked up, but the Officer was already getting onto his communication unit. She turned to look back at Garrus sitting hunched over, his hands on his knees. She placed a careful hand onto his shoulder, holding it firmly to let him know she was there. “Try to breathe, Garrus, deep breaths.” She looked up to see James standing in the doorway. “Vega, get me a medkit.”

“Yeah, fuck, hold on!” He rushed from the room and, ten seconds later, came sliding around the corner, a blue medical kit in his hands. The hospital colour coordinated their medical kits to make situations like this a little easier. “Got it!” He rushed forwards, opening the bag as he went.

“I need a stimulant, something to get his heart rate up.” She replied as they both started riffling through the bag. The turian shook his head and tried to say something but it came out as a wheeze that the translator couldn’t handle. “Hold on, Garrus… gods damn it!”

Mephran reached the door next, maybe three minutes after her initial call for help, hobbling along as fast as his artificial leg could carry him. “Commander?” He asked out of breath. “What happened?”

She looked up and replied, almost frantic. “He’s allergic to me. He can’t breathe.”

“Got it!” James replied holding up his prize.

In the meantime, Mephran had crossed the room and knelt down in front of Garrus, pressing a hand to his chest. “Give it to me,” he ordered. James complied and, without hesitation, the doctor pulled Garrus’ shirt out of the way and, after he checked the label, stabbed the needle into the softer skin of his waist. The injured turian flinched but didn’t lash out. A strained breath finally drew in after a few seconds. “There we go… breathe, Vakarian.”

“S… Spirits fuck… fuck...” He groaned as he panted. His hands started to tremble as the stimulant made its way through his system. “Didn’t want that… just wanted… needed... to kiss my mate. Fuck.”

Mephran carefully stood up giving the man some space. “What you need is rest, not that’ll you will be able to get any for the next few hours now.”

He took a few more greedy gasps of air before replying. “I’ve had enough rest. What I need is to be here.” He looked up from the hole he’d been staring into the floor, eyes narrowed and, other than the panted breaths, he looked normal. Every trace of fatigue gone.

“Garrus…” Jane tried. “Maybe you should go.”

He turned to look at her so quickly he needed a moment to shake off the dizziness before he could answer her. “No. I spent weeks getting back to you. I’m not letting you out of my sight. Two days without being able to see you was enough.”

“I… I can’t lose you, Garrus. Not to the Reapers or a bullet or to my own goddamned blood.” She closed her eyes a moment to steel herself for the next blow. “Get out.”

“Jane, you’re not going to lo… wait, what?”

“You heard me, I said get out.” She turned away, arms crossed over her abdomen.

“But... Jane.” He stood up and held out a hand to her but she shook her head and shuffled a little further away. His eyes were wide with shock. “I want to be here with you.”

“What if I don’t want you here?” She replied, voice wet with unspilled tears.

He stood still as a statue for a few beats before his hand dropped to his side and he turned on heel to take a few long strides across the small room. He paused at the door a moment, his hand on the doorframe. Without turning around, he drew in a single deep breath, almost as if he was waiting for her to call him back, before continuing out into the hall.

Vega and Mephran stood stone still watching Garrus go. Neither was stupid enough to say a word, even though their shock was obvious. Seconds later, Miranda appeared at the doors, out of breath for she had run from the other end of the hospital over the course of the past six minutes.

Six minutes was all it took for Shepard to go from the best spirits to the worst.

“I saw Garrus in the hall…” She started, but stopped when she caught the minute shake of James’ head. “Shepard…”

“I’m tired, Miranda.” She cut her off and laid carefully back down facing the window. “I need some help getting back to sleep.”

“Of course,” the brunette replied as she crossed the room. Mephran quietly excused himself and James followed him out. She cleaned up the medical kit as the Commander settled into bed, quietly crying to herself. “Shepard, if you want to talk.”

“No. I want to sleep.”

“Alright, I’ll wake you in a few hours.”

+_+_+_+_+

Outside, Garrus had brushed past Miranda without a word before heading to his hospital room. Not a soul got in his way as he walked through the halls, it must have been something about the look in his eyes. Mephran called after him, but he ignored the older turian. It was easy to put distance between himself and the doctor, what with the man’s bad leg and the stimulant coursing through his own veins. James, however, was quicker.

“Scars, wait up!” He called. Garrus didn’t answer and didn’t stop until the human marine grabbed his arm. “Come on, man. She didn’t mean it.”

The turian’s eyes narrowed as he rounded on the other man. “Vega, get off.” He pulled his arm away. “Mind your own spirits damned business for once. You of all people should know she can fight her own battles. She doesn’t do anything without a reason. If she told me to get out, then she meant it. Now get out of my way.”

“Garrus, stop. That’s the stim talking, not you.” The look on his face was pleading, but the turian wasn’t having any of it.

“Oh, piss off, you don’t know a damn thing about what I’m like on stims.” He shook his head and turned away. “Not a damn thing.”

Garrus began to walk away again and, this time, James didn’t try to stop him. Obviously, he needed some time to blow off a little steam. Although, he couldn’t help but add, “Maybe I don’t. But this isn’t you.”

Vakarian rounded on Vega and, with more speed than the marine expected from the injured and malnourished turian, punched him square in the jaw. James nearly went down as he stumbled back a few paces. “You know nothing!” Garrus roared at him. “Leave it alone, Lieutenant.”

James stood in silent shock, a hand covering the sore spot. When Garrus made no move to close the gap, he nodded. “Yeah. Right.” The turian turned and stalked off then. This time, James was smart enough to say nothing even as his mouth throbbed.

“Might want to give him space, Mr. Vega,” Mephran said as he approached the marine. “He’s been through enough over the past few weeks without what happened today. How’s the jaw?”

James turned to the older man. “I’ll be fine. I just hope those two will be. I’ve been with them since we picked Garrus up on Manae. With Shepard during her lock-up on Earth. I’ve never seen either of them lose their cool like that. Let alone at each other.”

“I’ve seen something similar once before. The Commander has an aversion to stimulants, as I’m sure you’re aware.” Vega nodded in agreement. “Once Vakarian comes back down, he’ll be back. That should give her enough time to cool down as well.”

“I sure hope you’re right, Doc. I sure hope you’re right.”

+_+_+_+_+

Unfortunately, the good turian doctor wasn’t correct. Which was why Garrus spent the next hour securing transport to the turian embassy where his father and the Primarch were working. It wouldn’t have taken nearly so long if he hadn’t picked up his C-Sec tail again when went to gather his things from his hospital room. Said tail had called for his doctors when he attempted to leave again. Thus, he ended up sending a young asari nurse away in tears after she tried to force him to stay.

No coaxing in the world was going to get the turian back into bed.

Garrus was gone from the hospital before Mephran or any of the other doctors made it to his room. In truth, he had only gone there to fetch his visor, he didn’t feel like himself without it. The medical grade stimulant did its job, as he efficiently lost his tail not two blocks from the hospital. Archangel was coming back out bit by bit, including hotwiring a taxi and shorting out a few security cameras.

Unfortunately for Garrus, the short ride over the the embassy gave the C-Sec officers who were supposed to be guarding him and the hospital staff that were supposed to be watching him enough time to inform the Primarch and Castis that he was missing. Victus wasn’t exactly surprised to find him on the other side of the doors when they opened.

“Vakarian.” The Primarch greeted smoothly from across the room, a smile appearing on his weary face. “I thought you’d be at the hospital, come in.”

The younger Vakarian stepped into the room, crossing to where Adrien and Castis were standing around a large table with a few other turian military officers, only one of which Garrus recognized. “Been out of the action long enough. Thought I could do a little more good here.”

Castis shook his head. “Garrus, you shouldn’t be…”

Victus cut him off. “We’re working on fleet movements.” His father looked from Victus to Garrus and back once before nodding in understanding. This wasn’t the time for fatherly concern. Garrus needed this as much as they needed him. “The turian fleet will be escorted by the quarian liveships back to Palaven where we’ll help them stock what we can for Rannoch in exchange for food stores to help support our rebuilding.”

Garrus nodded and moved to stand at the Primarch’s right, the spot had been vacated by the man he assumed to be Victus’ second in command. “Right.” He looked over the holographic star chart on the table quickly, his visor immediately syncing the details with the stored information on his omnitool. The plans were just modifications of his and Victus’ original post-war plans. Obviously fitted to the actual situation, considering their plans had been worst case scenarios meant to be modified as resources came available. “All the liveships survived the attack?” He asked.

Castis nodded. “Yes. One was badly damaged but, with help from the Alliance, we’ve managed to repair it. The  _ Shella  _ will be ready to jump with the rest of the fleet. Generally, the projections are better than expected.”

Victus launched into an explanation of their next steps as though Garrus had been there the whole time. Castis stood and watched as his son easily absorbed the information the Primarch was dealing out even as his visor was scrolling wildly through data. He didn’t quite know how the younger was doing it but, soon, he was as much a part of the conversation as anyone else that had been there for the past month. His occasional lapses in knowledge were quickly remedied, but his mistakes were no greater than anyone else’s.

“Our priority relating to galactic matters should be the relocation of the Citadel. The races are working together right now. I don’t expect that to last more than a year, maybe two. We need to establish a neutral location for the Citadel as soon as possible, that should help ensure the peace lasts longer.” Victus explained.

“True,” Garrus said. “Though, it might be prudent to focus on establishing some additional alliances within the Hierarchy first.”

The general across the table, General Bartus, and the only other turian Garrus had recognized, scoffed. “Are you talking about Taetrus? Those bastards in Facinus? They sealed their own fate long before the Reapers showed up.”

He nodded. “That’s exactly who I’m talking about. If we plan to keep the peace with the other species, then we need to be unified ourselves. Taetrus was hit hard in the war, harder than Palaven. I’m sure you saw the reports. That, combined with the Taetran War, means they need more help than ever.”

“We don’t have the resources for that!” Bartus slammed a fist down on the table. ”If anything, now is the time to wipe that colony out.”

Calmly, Garrus disagreed. “We didn’t have the resources to win this war, General. In every simulation, we lost at least half our population. In most, we lost everyone. We have more than you think.”

The General was about to speak out again, but the Primarch cut him off. “Enough. Advisor Vakarian is right. We need to be united in our efforts, no one left behind. Candera.” He turned to his aide. “Ensure that we speak with the quarians about a possible diversion of one liveship between some of the larger colonies. We’ll send additional cargo ships to pick up those who need transport to temporary camps from the smaller ones.”

“Of course, sir,” she replied, quickly jotting down the note on her datapad.

“That should work, Primarch.” Garrus stated simply before adding a few minor points of which colonies would need what. “When last I heard, Altakiril had a few survivors requiring transport, those that worked deep in the mines. Digerus was doing well enough before the final battle. Have we gotten in contact with them yet?”

As his questions were answered and he named more colonies, it became obvious that he was starting to fade. Garrus’ headache caused his brow to furrow and, soon, the table became a crutch. He hid it well enough, but the experienced eyes in the room saw through it.

“I think that’s it for today.” Victus announced when an appropriate lull entered the conversation. “Get some rest and we’ll pick this up in the morning, 0800 Citadel Standard Time.” The female general, Akita, and her asari aide were the first out of the room, followed by most of the other delegates. Castis moved around the table to Garrus’ side and Victus dismissed the remaining General a little more firmly. “Get something to eat and some rest. Whatever you want to argue about can be handled tomorrow, Bartus.”

“Understood, sir,” he replied a little more curt than would normally be acceptable. “I’ll have my aide send you a report.”

He sighed. “That’s fine.” Victus escorted him to the doors and all but shoved the man out. He turned to Candera. “You can go, too. I need to speak with the Vakarians privately.”

She nodded. “Of course, sir. Please send for me if you need anything. I would tell you to get some rest, but I know you’ll ignore me.”

“Then I won’t tell you either.” He laughed.

Candera moved to the door. “It’s good to have you back, Advisor.” Before he could reply, she was gone.

As it turned out, he hadn’t been listening. When Victus turned back to the other two turians, he found Garrus still working on his omnitool, even as Castis stood beside him, perched on the table edge. “If Wrex could send us more krogan, we would be able to start farming sooner. Maybe if we could convince him to send some…”

“Garrus, enough.” He looked up, the sharp command from Adrien enough to jar him from his plans. “Not that I don’t appreciate your help, but what in the Spirits’ names are you doing here?”

With more of a Command presence then someone in his condition should have had, he replied, “working on the recovery efforts. I’ve been neglecting my duties long enough that General Bartus managed to work his way onto your staff.”

Castis tried to place his hand on Garrus’ shoulder, but he moved away. “Son, you’ve done enough.”

“No. I haven’t,” he replied, toneless. The senior Vakarian expected anger or, well… something, but found nothing lingering in his voice. “I need to be here, working.”

Adrien shook his head. “Damn it, Garrus! I watched the doctors operate on you not two days ago. You need to rest, you’ve been run ragged and nearly starved, it’s time to let someone else do the work. Spirits, you shouldn’t be here, you should be with your mate.”

The junior looked away, a hand pressed to his forehead to try and stem his headache. After a moment of silence, he quietly said, “she doesn’t want me there.”

“Garrus…” Castis started but was cut off.

“I need to do something. Be useful.”

The older men looked at one another, a silent conversation taking place between them. What Garrus needed, versus what he wanted and what the turian people needed. As Primarch, he knew the younger man had been vital over the past few months and his aid would be best for the Hierarchy. But as his direct superior, he should be ordering him back to quarters to rest. Then again, as Garrus’ friend, he was warring with himself over Garrus’ health or his sanity. Castis seemed to be thinking the same, as he was the one to make an offer of compromise.

“The family apartment is in decent repair. If it means you’ll rest, then I’ll send you some reports. Victus, does that sound fair?” He added with the hope that, together, their influence would convince Garrus.

At the Primarch’s nod, he relented. “Fine. Doesn’t matter where I work as long as you give me something.”

“There should be a car waiting for us out front by now, I’ll see you at the morning meeting, Victus.”

“Of course, Castis.” He turned to Garrus. “It’s been a long road, hold on a little longer.” Placing a careful hand on his friend’s shoulder, he showed his support. “Give it some time. We finally have some, use it.”

Without responding, Garrus followed his father through the door. Castis kept the pace deliberately slow, he could tell his son was fading. He’d seen it before, too often, if he was honest with himself, back on Palaven. Before the war, he remembered there were days on end where Garrus hadn’t slept more than a handful of hours when he was trying to make preparations and gain support. Now, though? He needed to start leaving work for those without grievous injuries.

The embassy was still busy even at this late hour, but people parted for the father and son pair. Whether it was due to their positions or Garrus’ demeanor, Castis would never know. Their car was waiting for them and it took them without delay to the family apartments. The Vakarians were an old family, as such they held a number of properties on the Citadel and Palaven. Or they did before the war, anyway.

The ride was taken in silence. The senior pulled out his omnitool to message Solana that they were on the way, she was home preparing dinner already. Then, he pinged Garrus’ doctor with the address, he would be stopping by later in the evening. The junior seemed to have fallen asleep moments after take-off, but he was alert as ever as they slowed down fifteen minutes later for landing.

“It’s been a long time,” Garrus said as he exited the car. “The last time I walked these halls must have been, what? Four years ago. Five?”

Castis nodded. “Nearly seven, I think. Your mother was here to visit, you’d just been promoted to detective and finished training.”

“A lifetime ago.”

“Mhmm.” Castis took a few quicker paces and unlocked the door. “Sol. We’re home.” He gestured for Garrus to proceed him into the apartment. He watched as his son took it in, not much had changed but enough for him to need a moment to find his bearings.

The unit was large. A great room housed living space, a formal dining area, large kitchen, and the staircase. Behind the stairs was a small washroom, Castis’ office, and the library. Upstairs, the master suite was on the left complete with sitting area and bathroom. Four other, well appointed rooms lined the hall above the kitchen and dining space, a third washroom shared between them. The entire space was very turian in its design, clear concise lines and hard edges. It wasn’t quite spartan in its furnishings, but everything had a purpose or meaning beyond its aesthetic.

Solana called out a hello from the kitchen, and both men were surprised to find her standing. Her wheelchair was sitting, unused, by the door. She preempted their imminent questioning. “Crutches, I’m on crutches now. Garrus might have snuck out of his hospital bed but I, for one, have been listening to my doctors.”

In an unexpected move, Garrus chuckled. “What can I say? I’m a bad turian.”

“I know. But you can at least be a good brother and come over here, I’m not hobbling all the way to you.” He obliged her and crossed the space to pull her into a hug. When she pulled back, she was smiling. “Much better.”

Castis broke the silence. “Whatever you’re cooking smells great, Solana. Can I help with anything?”

She nodded. “If you could lay the table, that’d help. It’s nothing fancy but at least it’s fresh. I used mum’s pulmentum recipe with a couple substitutions. I hope it turned out alright.”

“I’ll eat some later on,” Garrus said as he headed for the stairs. “Just going to get a little sleep first.”

He didn’t get halfway there before Castis called him back. “You need to eat something, son. You’ve been with me all afternoon and haven’t eaten a thing.”

The younger turian rubbed a hand over his face. “I’m not hungry.” He said quietly. “What I had with Solana at breakfast was more than I was eating in a day on the  _ Normandy _ .”

“Garrus, I don’t want to fight with you, but you need to try.” He didn’t need his son angry with him so he left out any hint of threat or consequence for saying no. It would have been easy to say it was eat or go back to the hospital but, at least here, he would be looked after and have privacy. If he got frustrated enough, Castis wouldn’t put it past him to disappear completely. He’d done it before. And in his current state? He might do it again.

The young Vakarian sighed, defeated almost. He knew exactly what his father was thinking and that if it came to blows, he’d lose. “Yeah, alright.”

Within a few minutes, the small family was seated at the table, Castis at the head with Solana on his left and Garrus on the right. It wasn’t quite the same, but at least they were all together. Garrus even removed his visor when he sat down, whether it was a courtesy or because of another headache he didn’t know.

Solana walked them through her day to fill the silence, explaining what the doctors were planning for her rehabilitation. Crutches at home until she was comfortable with them, then she would get rid of the chair completely. A day which they anticipated would soon be upon them.

Castis explained what he could of his meetings with Victus and passed on regards from a few members of C-Sec that he’d seen earlier in the day. When the topic of Palaven came up, his demeanor became a little more serious. “The Primarch will be heading back with the second wave of ships in a few day’s time. I’ll be staying here to coordinate with C-Sec and Earth.” The underlying motive of staying with his children went unspoken but not unheard.

“If you need to go with him, dad,” Garrus began.

But Castis shook his head. “No. I know Victus well enough to know he does actually need me here and isn’t just acquiescing to my want for it. Solana needs the care of the doctors here, so do you.”

Sol smiled. “I’ll be ready for work soon, I think. Get back to whatever’s left of Cipritine Armories, or maybe help with the recovery efforts. I don’t know a whole lot about the Geth, but I’m sure as hell ready to try.”

“Who’s heading that project?” Garrus asked, feeling a little out of the loop.

Solana hummed. “I think it’s Admiral Zorah. You know her, don’t you?”

“Tali? Yeah.” He paused a moment, realising that he hadn’t heard from her since he’d been back. Hell, he didn’t actually know who of his friends were still alive and who weren’t. He pushed back from the table, grabbing his visor as he stood. “I’ve got some work to do,” he said.

Castis stood up too and stopped him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Garrus….” The younger shook him off. “You barely touched dinner.”

“I had enough.” He headed for the stairs but barely got to the kitchen before he faltered. The dizziness had come back and he felt sick. The ever present nausea of stimulant withdrawal combined with his pain medication was sending him for a loop.

In seconds, his father was at his side again. “This has to stop, son. You need food and rest. Maybe…” he hesitated. “Maybe you should be at the hospital.”

“No.” He nearly shouted in response. “I’m not going back there.” His shoulders heaved in his frustration. Clearly, something else was going on but, before he could inquire again, Garrus took off for the washroom, a moment later the sound of heaving hit. It lasted a full minute before he got himself under control, a curse echoing out from the tiled room.

It had been years since Castis had dealt with one of his children sick. Even then, they had been young children and it was mostly their mother who dealt with them. He knew better than to ask if Garrus was alright. Instead, he filled a glass with water and went to the door. “Garrus, I’m coming in,” he warned rather than asked.

His son was sitting on the floor, back against the wall opposite the toilet. He said nothing more, just moved in to sit beside him. He placed the water glass between them on the floor. They were quiet for a while until the younger filled the silence.

“Meds make me nauseous,” he said by way of explanation. “Still coming off them, will be for a couple days.” He took a deeper breath, his eyes shut as he willed the ache away.

“I want to help you, son. Let me.” Castis turned and his eyes traced the scars evident across the side of his son’s face. The burn marks that slipped down lower than the collar of his shirt and, as he now knew, onto his shoulder and chest. “What happened earlier today? Solana said you were doing well this morning.”

Garrus released a long breath, he wanted to tell his father the truth. That meant he’d have to explain not only his allergic reaction, but why his mate had reacted so negatively to the epinephrine. Now wasn’t the time.

“I was with Jane earlier,” he began voice slow and hesitant. “We’d barely said hello before she told me to get out. She said she didn’t want me there. I… she…” He paused to let out a low whine, his face dropping into his hands, shoulders shaking. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

And what could Castis say to that? His bondmate, whom he’d followed into hell on numerous occasions, didn’t want him. He was missing something. Garrus was missing something. There had to be more to it than this, he didn’t believe his son would have fallen in love with someone so cruel as that.

Right now, Garrus didn’t need platitudes, he needed the support of his father. And for once? Castis was able to give it. He sat and listened as the younger man opened up about the last three weeks. His words were hesitant and halting but, slowly, it all came out. The final goodbye on the Citadel, the subsequent crash, finding the Alliance ship, his refusal to believe his mate was gone, his near starvation, it all came out.

By the time he was finished, his voice was low and without inflection, as though getting the words out had caused him to go numb again. Garrus shivered and, when Castis touched his hand to the back of his neck, he was ice cold.

“Let’s get you upstairs.” He said and, carefully, the pair stood up. Castis moved to his son’s good side and, without argument, Garrus let him take some of his weight. He was so tired. When they stepped into the main room, Castis’ attention was on Garrus and, when the younger stiffened, he looked up to find Doctor Mephran sitting at the dining room table with Solana. An empty bowl laid on the table in front of him. “I didn’t know you made house calls, Doctor.”

“I usually don’t.” Mephran responded. Then, without malice, he added, “But when my patients disappear from the hospital, I make a point of it. If you’ll allow me to, I’d like to check you over.”

Garrus sighed. “Yeah. Alright.” He continued on to the stairs, shrugging his father off to climb them alone. He leaned heavily on the railing, but made it upstairs without incident. Mephran followed him, medical bag in hand. Solana and Castis were left alone.

“Dad…” Solana started before trailing off.

“How much did you hear?” Castis asked softly.

“Enough to know he’s hurting and there isn’t anything we can do about it.” She let out a frustrated noise and plunked her head down on the table. Her father moved behind her and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. After a squeeze she looked up from her arms. “Hasn’t he been through enough yet? What the hell was she thinking? Sending him away… it makes me so angry, dad.”

“I won’t hesitate to agree with you there, but I think we’re missing an essential part of this puzzle.” He might have explained further but, as he was about to continue, he heard the doctor call out.

“Mr. Vakarian, could you come up here for a moment, please?”

“Of course,” He replied and headed for the stairs. Before he went up them, he turned back to Solana. “Check to see if any of Garrus’ team know more.” She nodded and went to work.

The doctor was waiting at the top of the stairs. “I’m sorry to bother you with this, but do you have any extra clothing? I’d like to get him setup for the night, and I’m sure he’d be more comfortable in something other than his fatigues.”

“I’m sure I’ve got something, I’ll bring it in.” Castis headed for his own room and pulled out an older set of sleep pants and a loose sleeveless shirt. They’d be big, but Mephran was right, it was better than fatigues. He knocked once on the door and entered slowly. The room was dim, only lit by the small light on the nightside table.

Garrus was sitting down on the edge of the bed, Mephran attending to the healing incisions from his surgery. The closer Castis got, the more prominent the old scars became. Even with the warning from Chellick and partially seeing Garrus’ chest in the hospital, he hadn’t been prepared well enough to see the entire package.

Those long whip marks on his shoulders painted the plains of his back and upper arms, his right side was a mess of burns from his face down his shoulder, arm and onto his chest, and synthetic plating mixed with charred. Moving lower, old bullet and knife wounds marred him on arms and chest. And then there were claw-like marks on his lower abdomen. He didn’t dare consider what happened there.

By the time Castis had dragged his eyes back up, Garrus was looking away from him and at the back wall. Mephran gave him a sympathetic look as he stepped back. He cleared his throat. “These should be more comfortable.” He held the clothing out and Garrus took it, a thanks murmured. He put on the shirt immediately, it hung loose from his too thin frame, but covered the worst of the scars on his abdomen and back, his shoulders and arms left on display.

“Just the IV line left. Did you want to clean up first?” The doctor asked as he pulled two packages out of his bag and adjusted the arm of a floor lamp to hang them over his bed. Garrus stood carefully and headed for the washroom without a word. Mephran turned back to Castis. “That’s not the worst reaction he’s seen. It’s a lot to digest, even in this light.”

“I’ve seen similar before, I worked for C-Sec a long time. I just didn’t think it would be so different knowing the person under the scars.”

“Now that you know, now that you’ve seen them, it becomes a matter of treating him the same way as before. Garrus came to terms with these injuries years ago, having his father see them now might bring some of those old feelings back but, make no mistake, he’ll talk about it when you are both ready to hear about it.”

Before Castis could reply, he heard Garrus’ feet outside the door, nails clicking against the warm tile floor. He entered and dropped his boots by the door and left his own clothing on a chair. The pants were very loose, hanging on only by the drawstring and some luck. Without the cover of his fatigues, he looked much too thin, as though a stiff breeze would blow him over. He sat back down on the bed and held out his arm to the doctor, looking away from him and shutting his eyes.

His father stood by the door unmoving as the doctor carefully found a good vein and inserted the new IV. He explained one drip was a nutrient supplement and the other was for hydration. He didn’t offer a painkiller, nor did Garrus ask for one. That obviously wasn’t an oversight, Castis made a note to ask one of them about it later.

“I’ll meet you downstairs, Mr. Vakarian. I’m going to check on your daughter’s leg while I’m here.” Mephran closed his bag and headed for the door. “Get some rest, Garrus. I’ll see you tomorrow, if you can’t make it to me I’ll come to you. Just call.”

He blew out a slow breath. “Until tomorrow, then.” The doctor was gone after a quick nod to Castis. The elder Vakarian turned to his son but, before he could say anything, Garrus did. “I’m sorry you had to see that, dad.”

“Garrus…”

“No, let me finish.” He adjusted himself in the bed, sitting up a little straighter. It was probably unconsciously done, but it gave him a little more presence. “Now probably isn’t the time, but those old scars, the ones that even you couldn’t hide your disgust for, were as a result of my own stupidity. I’ll wear the marks of my failure until the day the Spirits take me, and even they seem reluctant to do so. I was, or I suppose am still in some ways, Archangel.”

Castis stomach dropped. “Of Omega?”

Garrus nodded once, the sharp movement so final it almost hurt. “That day, when I called you? I’d lost my team. I was lured away from the base and, while I was gone, the team was ambushed. I got back in time for the last ones to die in my arms. After that, I stayed for one final stand, one last fight before the Spirits took me, but they weren’t so kind. I took a missile,” he gestured to his face. “And was taken captive.”

“You don’t need to tell me this now, it can wait.”

But Garrus shook his head. “No. I need this in the open. Solana already knows, one of my old squadmates told her who I am. She doesn’t know about anything beyond the missile, though, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Of course.” His father agreed immediately.

After a shaky breath, he continued. “As you’ve seen, the mercs weren’t exactly following C-Sec protocol when they took me. I wasn’t too keen on supplying information, I figured I was dead anyways, so I kept my mouth shut for the most part. They didn’t like that.” He rubbed at the old split in his left cheek which tipped Castis off to the level of punishment he’d endured. You had to hit pretty damn hard to crack a turian plate, especially a faceplate. “To this day, I don’t have an exact timeline, I’ve been told it was about two or three days before Shepard and her crew found me, but what happened in between and how long I spent unconscious, I have no idea.”

In the lull, Castis interjected. “This doesn’t change anything between us, Garrus. You are still my son. No matter what happened.”

He huffed a laugh. “How about the addiction that followed? I’d been using stims as Archangel, then the mercs used them on me for control, and afterwards? I couldn’t stop. I’m a hypocrite. I spent years getting drugs off the streets and there I was... using.”

“You were sick, Garrus. Don’t blame yourself for that.”

“That’s why Shepard doesn’t want to see me. Why I’ve been so nauseous and dizzy. After the fight with the Reapers, I was back on painkillers. We ran out. So I kept a few in reserve and, as we approached Sol, I fucking took them with a stimulant. My favorite damn cocktail. Once we were safe, my body couldn’t handle the adrenaline drop off and I went into shock.” As his rant came to an end, he was breathing hard, his headache obvious as he dropped his face into his hands. “I’ve done this to myself, I don’t deserve any special care.”

“You’re wrong.” He looked up and stared, slack jawed at his father. Before the younger man could argue Castis continued. “What you don’t deserve is the hand you’ve been dealt. Through all of this, you’ve been strong, Garrus. So strong. Care is exactly what you need right now, you need, for once in your adult life, for someone to take care of you. The Reapers are gone… you’re alive, your mate is alive. Everything else will work itself out.”

“But what about…”

“No.” He sliced his hand through the air to mark his point. “The drugs don’t matter, Garrus. You got clean before, you can do it again. They were a necessity. I read the report, your lower lung was nearly torn apart. Not to mentioned the nerve damage in your arm. How the hell you survived that, let alone maintained command of a starship. Garrus, it’s incredible. Everything you are is incredible and it’s taken me this long to see it.”

The room went still, neither man having more to say for the moment. Solana’s soft voice called up to Castis, asking him to come down to see the doctor off.

“Try to sleep, son. I’ll be back shortly.”

Castis turned to go, but stopped at softly spoken words. “I’ll try, dad.” He nodded and headed down to where the other two turians waited by the door.

“Apologies for the delay. He wanted to open up and I wasn’t one to stop him.”

Mephran nodded thoughtfully. “If he wants to open up, by all means help him do so. Garrus isn’t the type to speak easily about his past and all its misgivings, but I’m sure you knew that. The best thing for him right now is rest and it will be hard to comeby.”

“We are missing a part of what’s occurred today,” Solana said to the doctor. “If we’re going to help him we need the full story.”

Mephran ran a hand over his fringe and sighed. “He won’t be happy with my telling you this, but he had an allergic reaction earlier.”

“And was given epinephrine to get through it, I imagine,” Castis added seriously.

Mephran nodded. “That’s right, standard procedure with the standard dosage.”

“Allergic reaction?” Solana asked. “Reaction to what?”

“I can’t say,” the doctor deflected. “What I can tell you is the effects of the stimulant were slightly more prominent than normal as he’s still recovering from malnutrition. I’m expecting he’ll be nauseous and irritable for at least a few days while his body deals with the side effects of that and of getting him off the painkillers.”

“So soon?” the female turian replied, voice hesitant. “Wasn’t he just in surgery?”

“He was, yes.”

Mephran might have explained further but Castis cut him off, wanting to allow Garrus time to explain to Solana himself why the stimulants bothered the Commander, and why his painkillers were being cut off so soon after a major surgery. “Is there anything we can do to help him get through this? I imagine it won’t be easy.”

“No, it won’t. Keep him hydrated, give him something to do. He won’t want to, but keeping him in bed would be best.” The doctor reached his hand into his bag and pulled out a small package, “There are a few emergency items in here. If he has another allergy attack, he’ll need the epi-pen. Otherwise? Under no circumstances, is he to have it. Garrus’ll tell you if he needs the painkiller, if he’s asking for it, he needs it. Give him a single dose and call me if it isn’t enough. There are also a few sedatives, those I’ll leave up to you. He needs sleep, Mr. Vakarian, make sure that happens.”

Castis’ eyes narrowed. “Are you suggesting I drug my son without his knowledge?”

“I am. He needs rest, let him try but, when it fails, you can mix the powder into a tisane. Forced sleep is better than no sleep at this point.” He dragged a tired hand across his own face. “Until tomorrow, then.”

Without another word, the older turian left, Castis carefully closing the door behind him. Solana hobbled back a few steps and sat down on the couch. “Does he really expect us to drug him, dad?”

“I suppose so.” He replied looking into the package and noting there was a veritable pharmacy in there. “Solana, Garrus told me about Archangel.”

She made a surprised noise. “Really? I wasn’t expecting that. I’m sorry I didn’t say anything yet, I only found out by accident.”

“I understand, it was a lot to take in, but a lot more makes sense now. Doesn’t it?”

“Hmm…” she mused thoughtfully. “It really does put things into perspective. How much did he tell you about it? You weren’t up there that long.”

“Just that he was Archangel and what happened the day I got his call. The one that let us know he was still alive. Tell me what you can and we’ll help each other fill in the blanks before I head back up to check on him.”

+_+_+_+_+

 

End Part - 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it for part two! 
> 
> Fanfiction Recommendation: I Can't Get No Satisfaction by 11_Gadget_27 http://archiveofourown.org/works/1514627 . Original turian characters going at it, an enjoyable read to get your mind off of Shepard and Garrus' troubles.


	11. Part 3 - Disappearing Act

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Work doesn't just disappear. Some people, however, do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back for Part three! Thanks for sticking with me everyone. Would like to thank squiggly_squid as always for being such a patient Beta. This is a long one, hold on tight!

Part 3

Chapter 11 +-+-+-+

It wasn’t until late in the evening that Jane woke up due to Miranda’s prompting. Her demeanor hadn’t changed from her earlier upset, and would have prefered not to be disturbed. But, if Miranda was anything, it was determined, so she managed, after a little convincing, to begin the therapy Shepard was going to need to regain her strength. A month of unconsciousness and a handful of surgeries was more than enough time for muscle atrophy to begin.

“I know you don’t want to, Commander, but we need to start this now,” Lawson explained calmly. “You’re strong enough to start rebuilding. Everyday you wait, you’ll add another week to your recovery.”

“Fine.” Shepard sighed as she sat up. “Remind me again how I was combat ready after two years dead?”

The operative helped her into the wheelchair. “You weren’t actually dead the whole time, Shepard. Clinically, you were only deceased for three months, the rest of the time was all recovery. If I had my way, you would have been asleep for a lot longer.”

“I really didn’t need to know that,” she said absently. Miranda wheeled her out of the room to the elevator, James and Grunt joined following closely behind them as escorts. It only took a moment of coaxing for James to take the chair from Miranda, who still recovering as well.

The rehabilitation centre was a fairly large space on the top floor of the hospital, just beneath the emergency vehicle parking, with big windows that looked out over the Presidium. The number of people in it had been slowly diminishing as time went on, with most being sent to smaller hospitals in the wards. Soon, it would be VIPs and special cases only at Huerta. It was as much a place of business as it was a hospital, and, generally, their clientele were high profile; Spectres, military leaders, ambassadors, and politicians. 

Once Lawson and Shepard were set up at their station, Grunt and Vega left them to their work, standing guard by the elevators instead of crowding the women. Their goal for today was to get the Commander back on her feet; they’d work on walking later. 

It was a grueling experience, but no worse than any other time Shepard had been through rehab. By the end of it, she was tired enough to fall asleep sitting up in her chair and James needed to help her into bed again. 

“Commander,” Miranda began carefully once she was situated under the covers. “I think we need to talk for a few minutes about earlier.”

“I’m your Commander as much as you’re still an Operative.”

“Fine then, Shepard.”

“Better. But I’m still not talking about it.”

“Com… Shepard, your mental health is just as important as your physical well being. I’m your doctor. If you’d rather someone else, I will go find them, but you’ve got to talk to someone.”

“I don’t really feel like talking, Miranda,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. Lawson didn’t budge and, eventually, she gave in. “He’s using again.”

Miranda was struck a little dumb at her answer. “We talked about this already. He had a piece of metal stuck in his chest cavity for weeks and his cybernetics malfunctioned. Not to mention he was literally starving to death. He needed the painkillers.”

“There had to have been something else Chakwas could have done,” the Commander argued. “She was there the first time. She saw what they did to him.”

“Shepard! Be reasonable. I’m sure you remember the agony he was in after his incarceration, that first night? After his initial surgery. What about when I installed his cybernetics? I’ll never get the memory of his screams out of my head, not that it was made easy by reliving it when I had to fix them again.”

“What are you talking about?”

“There’s a reason I sent you away when I connected his cybernetics, Shepard. Think back, what were you doing when I was in surgery?”

The Commander thought for a moment and answered slowly. “I was checking weapons with Jacob in the armory.”

“Exactly. That way you wouldn’t hear him. Do you remember his screams on Omega? It was like that, only I had to perform the action multiple times, and he was in complete control of his faculties by then.” Shepard stared at Miranda in open shock, but before she could cut, in the Ex-Operative continued. “I’m probably overstepping, but he needs you. If you care about him...”

“Of course I care!”

“Let me finish,” Miranda snapped. “If you care about him, then you’ll apologise and ask him back. Unless you want another Omega adventure. Because that nearly killed him twice over, between the gangs and Morinth, it’s been damn close.”

Shepard ran her hands through her, already messy, hair. “What did I do?” She asked in a quiet rhetoric. 

Miranda answered anyways. “It doesn’t matter. What matters is the fact you both need each other. What was it you said? There’s no Shepard without Vakarian?” She smiled and placed a hand on the other woman’s shoulder. “Tomorrow we’ll go see him, alright?”

“Alright. Tomorrow then.”

+_+_+_+

 

Castis yawned as he entered the turian embassy. He was the first to arrive after Victus. If the elder Vakarian hadn’t known any better, he’d have expected the Primarch to be sleeping in the office. He was seated at his desk, nose already deep into a datapad. 

“Long night, Vakarian?” The Primarch asked, voice concerned yet he tried to keep it light.

With a nod, he sat down across from the younger turian. “It was. Garrus is sleeping for now, I’ve left Solana with him.” Adrien said nothing, his silence reason enough for Castis to continue. “It’ll be a long road, I think. Yesterday’s fiasco helped nothing.”

“It did help one thing. The recovery effort.” The Primarch hummed thoughtfully. “That meeting was the most effective we’ve had, thus far. But, I do understand that isn’t what you meant. How is he, really?”

“Unwell. He’s through the worst of it now, but the recovery is going to take much longer than his decline did. Doctors don’t think he’ll ever get off the oxygen, the damage was too severe and left too long without proper treatment.”

“I’ve read the report, Castis. I wasn’t asking about his body, his soul more like.”

Vakarian couldn’t stay seated any longer and he stood up and paced to the balcony. After a moment, Victus followed. “He’s in turmoil. There was some kind of misunderstanding between him and Commander Shepard. She told him to get out and he obeyed. That’s how he wound up here yesterday. I refuse to believe that is the full story. Solana will try to find out more.”

With a long sigh, Adrien leaned forwards on the railing, hands grasping it tightly as he looked out over the Presidium. “They may need time apart, and I’d be lying if I said I couldn’t use Garrus with me.”

Castis’ mandibles pulled in close to his face, he didn’t try to hide his dislike for the idea. “They just had a month.”

“Mm… a month where they were both pushed to the breaking point again and again. They know the other is alive and recovering now. They need to focus on that recovery, and being together might not be the best way to do it.” He paused to let the thought sink in before he continued. “I’m telling you this first as a courtesy, Castis. I need Garrus’ help. The turian people need him at his best.”

“Hasn’t he done enough?” Anger radiated off the usually calm turian. “He’s given everything to this Spirit's damned war.”

“Don’t you think I know that?” He snapped back. “If it wasn’t for Garrus, then we’d all be dead, or worse. Our people were the only ones who began preparations before the Reapers hit, Garrus was the one that made that happen. Shepard may have brought everyone together, but without him? We’d have all been dead before we had that chance.”

“Adrien…”

“No, let me finish. I’ve come to care for Garrus like a son. I already lost Tarquin, I promise you I’ll take care of Garrus. I can’t just stand idle and watch him suffer, he’s had enough of that.” The Primarch turned to face his Security Chief. “Would you stop him?”

Castis sighed. “If he listened to me, he’d still have been working at C-Sec when the Reapers hit. Garrus will make his own choice, whether or not he reports to Palaven with you now or comes later and you use the QEC to communicate in the interim. You should propose it to him when he arrives later this afternoon.”

“He’ll be joining us, then?”

With a nod, he turned to head back inside. “Most likely. Solana will do what she can to keep him in bed, but I doubt she’ll be able to keep him there more than a few hours.”

+_+_+_+

Nearly two hours after her father left, the apartment was still quiet. Solana had carefully made her way up the stairs, feeling a little too much like a child as she sat on the stairs and moved up backwards one bum slide at a time. Castis had been thoughtful enough to bring a few things up to the second floor, including everything she needed to make kava or a tisane.

The youngest Vakarian had been sitting in her old room at her desk when she heard a noise. She looked up from her computer terminal, listening for anything out of the ordinary. After a few seconds, she heard it again, a little louder. It sounded like someone was moving around. Carefully, she levered herself up and grabbed her crutches. Solana headed for the hallway and towards her brother’s room. 

“Garrus?” She asked gently from the door. When he didn’t answer, she slid the it open and stepped inside. It was dark, but she could make out his silhouette on the bed, he was thrashing and making noises of discomfort. “Garrus?” She said a little louder as she started making her way to his bedside.

When she finally reached him and placed a hand on his good shoulder, he woke up with a yell, thankfully not lashing out. Instead, he’d recoiled in on himself with an uncharacteristic whimper. Solana’s eyes softened, she hadn’t been prepared for that. “Garrus, it’s just me. It’s Sol.” She reached for the bedside lamp and turned it on to the lowest setting. The warm glow illuminating the room quickly. 

His breaths came in short pants as he worked his way down from the nightmare. “Sor… sorry about that,” Garrus ground out through uneven breaths. “Are you alright?”

“That’s what I should be asking you,” she replied while sitting down on the edge of the bed. “Want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve heard all the platitudes. It’s all in the past, it just has a tendency to come out when I’m not expecting it.” Solana looked Garrus over, his chest was still heaving from the exertion, sweat was glistening between his plates. He was having a rough go and there wasn’t a thing she could do about it. “Where’s dad?” He asked, reaching for his visor.

“He left a few hours ago, he’ll be back tonight.”

“Mmh…” He hummed in reply, forcing himself up into a seated position. His visor was now in place and starting to stream through its updates. “I’d better get a move on, then, if I plan to be useful today.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “The only thing you need to plan for today is rest and a visit from Mephran.” He was about to argue, but she interrupted him. “If you’re that keen on going out, then we can go to Huerta instead of making him come here.”

“You drive a hard bargain, Sol,” he replied, tone lighter than she expected. “Any chance of a better compromise?”

“Such as?” She asked, skeptical of his response.

“Once I’ve got the damn IV’s out, you can look the other way while I head for the Embassy?” 

“No.” He quirked his mouth in the turian version of an exaggerated pout just like the one she’d used on him through their childhood years. Sol laughed. “That may have worked on mom, but it won’t on me.”

“Damn.” He laughed with her. The mood considerably brighter than the day prior, the lightness helped to quash the remnants of his nightmare. The siblings were quiet for a few minutes before the elder’s stomach decided to make its empty presence known. “Don’t suppose you’ve got any ration bars up here?”

“Actually, I do. Want kava or something with it?” She stood up and, ever so carefully, removed the needle from his arm. 

He looked away from her while she worked. “If I know dad, he’s got some of that maccha tisane hidden somewhere.”

Solana tried her best to ignore the tremor in his hand and kept her voice soft. “He even left it out for you. Meet me in dad’s room? He brought up some things this morning so I didn’t have to do the stairs more than once.”

“I was wondering about that,” Garrus mentioned as he stood. Solana tried not to stare as she caught the thin line of him, the exaggerated bulk of his muscles without a shred of body fat to smooth out the starkness. He caught her looking anyways as they headed for the other room. “I’m thin, Sol, not blind.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled quickly. “It’s not just that…”

“It’s the scars. I know.” He rubbed a hand over his fringe as he moved to his father’s closet and pulled out a thick sweater. “Think dad’ll mind?” Solana shook her head no and he pulled it on. “It’s been a long time since they healed. They aren’t something I’m proud of, but they’re… fitting?”

“What do you mean?” Solana asked as she made their drinks. “G… you didn’t deserve to get hurt like that.”

The older sibling sat back on the couch, adjusting his oxygen line as he did so. The tube in his nose wasn’t nearly as obtrusive as the mask he’d worn on the  _ Normandy,  _ but it still needed attention at times. He sighed. “I got off easy. The rest of my team is dead. They’re a reminder of my failure, of a time when I trusted too easily.”

“Garrus, stop.”

“No. If I’d been smarter,” He gestured to his face. “Then this? Wouldn’t have happened.” Solana passed him a ration bar and sat down. “I’m comfortable enough in my own plates, but I’m not used to others seeing the full extent of them. You need to see them as little as I need your pity over them.” He opened the bar up and, after glaring at it a moment, took a bite. “You’d think I’d be used to these things by now.”

Sol half laughed and grabbed one for herself. “I’d be more concerned if you said you liked them. I know you lived off them, but they aren’t exactly good.” He was trying to change the subject, she inherently knew that, but let it slide. “I’m going to have to try a few more of your favorites to get you back on real food.”

“Mmh. Maybe.” They were quiet for a few minutes and, when Garrus did speak, he hesitated over the words. “Did Mephran leave anything for me?”

His sister nodded and carefully levered herself up. “I’ll be back in a moment.” When she returned she had a single pill in her hand. “Painkiller, right?” At his nod, she handed it over and let him take his medication. 

“Mephran’s got me rationed already, I see.” He stated a little grim around the lip of his mug. “When do we need to leave for Huerta?”

Solana let the comment about his doctor slide as well, saving that conversation for a later date. “Whenever you’re ready. Maybe grab a shower first, G. Hot water’s working if you aren’t feeling traditional. Either way, the bathroom’s stocked.” 

Garrus got the hint and headed out. He hadn’t exactly had time for personal hygiene since arriving on the Citadel, so the thought of a shower was a welcome one.

+_+_+_+

 

The hospital was bustling with the usual daily activity when the Vakarian siblings arrived. It didn’t take long for the turian doctors to set Garrus up on another IV with a nutrient pack and fluids. If he started taking care of himself properly, he was told he’d be able to stop the daily drips within a week.

Solana was due for a therapy session for her leg. As such, she left Garrus in the capable hands of Doctor Mephran. In total, his IV line would take two hours to empty, and it would be at least that long for all of his tests to be completed. Between the imaging for his chest and the blood samples, he’d be there a while. The youngest Vakarian left her brother with his nose deep in his omnitool working over the reports her father had sent over.

When Solana arrived in the rehabilitation centre, it was fairly quiet, still a little early in the day for most of the out patients and many of the in patients would be having their morning meal. The asari in charge of her care, Leeta, was more than happy to help her out of her chair and onto one of the weight racks to begin her day. 

Together, they worked through a few basic stretches and Solana practiced walking with her crutches, cursing every now and then. A few familiar faces started to show up as she worked, passing on compliments on her progress and joining her in their own work. The instructor moved between patients fluidly, she’d obviously been at it for years; an old pro, as it were. It got louder as more and more people arrived until it felt like every other space in the hospital, full and a little emotional. 

It was the sudden silence that got Solana’s attention as she worked at putting weight on her bad leg. She turned to see where everyone’s focus had gone, and the culprit was Commander Shepard. The woman seemed to always gain the brunt of the attention whenever she appeared. The therapists were quick to pull everyone back to their tasks, but the damage had obviously been done already, if the Commander’s face was any indication. Cool as glass, but those eyes… they looked... sad. Maybe? Solana couldn’t be sure, she wasn’t too good with human faces yet. 

As she worked, she stole a few glances over towards the Commander. Solana wasn’t sure if Shepard or her escorts had seen her. She recognized Miranda working through some strengthening exercises and James hanging back near the elevator with Grunt, the latter still in full armor. The Commander ignored the rest of the room and focused on the other human woman, working through many of the same moves that she had been doing not a few minutes prior. 

Leeta pulled her attention back to her exercises. “Staring at the Commander isn’t going to make that leg of yours any stronger, Ms. Vakarian.”

“Right…” She snapped her attention back to the asari. “Sorry.”

“Your interest seems to run a little deeper than casual interest,” she said quietly so only Solana could hear. “Something I should know?”

The young turian hesitated a moment before replying, “My brother was on her crew.”

Her eyes softened slightly, “Ah… you’re that Vakarian. I was curious. I take it you’ve met her before, then?”

Solana nodded. “Only a few times.”

“Maybe you should go see her before you leave, it looks like she could use a friend.” They watched as the Commander stumbled and brushed Miranda off as she tried to help. “Sometimes the best help comes from other patients, not their doctor.”

Before Solana could respond, Leeta placed a single crutch down on the railing beside her and walked off. The turian looked at the item and back towards Shepard. The walk looked a lot longer than it really was, but she knew what Leeta wanted her to do. She set herself up and slowly made her way over to Shepard. James and Grunt acknowledged her as she went, the human taking a few moments longer than the krogan to determine who she was.

She was panting by the time she got there but she’d made it. “Solana,” Miranda greeted cordially. “I didn’t realise you’d be up here.”

“Just trying to get my bearings.”

Shepard didn’t look at her. Miranda responded after a few moments instead. “Looks like you’re doing well. Last I saw, you were chair bound.”

“I’m allowed out of the chair at home now, couple hours a day. But at least I’m getting somewhere. Looks like you’re starting to get better too, Shepard.”

The human finally met her gaze, the question forcing her to look up and engage. “It’s slow, but I’ll get used to the new leg with a little more time.” 

Solana let the silence linger a few moments again, trying to get the Commander to fill the space. Miranda intervened again. “How’s your brother?” Shepard flinched, Sol would have missed it had she not been watching.

The turian’s gaze didn’t leave the human Commander. “Tired. Yesterday’s meetings took a lot out of him I think.” She baited. 

Shepard grabbed hold of the information as Solana had expected. “Meetings?”

“Mmhm,” Solana agreed, her plan working better than she hoped. “Spent the afternoon at the Embassy with father and the Primarch working on the post-war efforts. Was anxious to get back to work, I think. He’s not one for doing nothing when there is work to be done.” When Shepard looked away, Solana caught the other human’s eye. There was a silent conversation between them, Miranda unsure if this was the best course of action and Solana sure that it was. “But you know that about him.”

The injured woman’s brow was furrowed when she looked back up, her concern outweighing restraint. “He’s recovered then?”

“Well... no. Not really.”

“Then why is he working? Can’t Victus find someone else?” Her tone had gotten a little sharper, but the volume was still low.

Solana shrugged. “He asked for work. Forced his way in, as far as father told me. But the Primarch couldn’t refuse him. Garrus is obviously unwell, but you know that too... don’t you?”

“I do.” She ground out, temper rising.

“Then I’ll wish you luck with your exercises. He’ll be just about done with his doctors now. It’s time I try to get him home, but, more than likely, Garrus will want to go back to the Embassy. Unless… no, nevermind. Ms. Lawson. Commander.” Before the other two could reply, Solana hobbled off, the asari instructor meeting her halfway with her chair. “Thank you, Leeta.”

The look she gave her turian patient was incredulous. “That isn’t quite what I had in mind when I sent you over.”

“It was necessary.” She said, allowing the asari to wheel her over the the elevator. “Same time tomorrow?” She asked with a turian smile. Leeta agreed and left to tend to her other patients. James approached. “Mr. Vega. What can I do for you?” The turian asked as she waited for the lift to arrive.

“Hey, Wheels. Hold up a minute.” He held the door as she entered the small box.

“Wheels?” She asked with a laugh. “Ride with me.”

He shrugged and stepped in. “I keep it simple.” The doors closed and they began their slow descent. “Anyways, what the hell did you just say to Lola? She’s got a lot on her plate right now.”

Solana crossed her arms over her chest and her mouth quirked into a scowl. “She’s got a lot on her plate?” She hadn’t heard the metaphor before, but it translated well enough. “What about my brother?” Hissing her distaste for the statement.

“Scars’ll be ok…”

She barked out a laugh. “You didn’t see him. Whatever she did yesterday? It nearly broke him. They’re both hurting and they need each other. That much is obvious. It doesn’t give me any sense of satisfaction to guilt her, but someone needed to. I just gave her someone to hate so that she can get over herself.”

James was struck a little stupid for a moment, but eventually he nodded. “Yeah, I get it. How is he?” He asked a little hesitant.

“Not good.”

“You gotta give me more than that, Pequeño Azul.”

Solana’s eyes softened at his new nickname. S he didn’t question it, even though it didn’t translate. “He’s in a lot of pain, but he’s not taking medication like he should be. He’s on a smaller dosage than I am, and my leg’s nearly healed. He got out of surgery just days ago. I’m worried about him, James. He won’t eat, he’s having nightmares.”

“He’s been through this dance before. He’ll make it through. Just give him a little time, alright? I’ll try to talk some sense into Lola. She’s gotta know he needs her. Take care of him a little longer, alright?”

The elevator doors opened and she wheeled out. “Yeah. I will.” 

“I’ll see you soon,” he promised.

The doors started to close and Solana managed to say just one more thing before they shut completely. “And James? Thank you.” He might have said something in answer, but it was lost between her and the doors.

By the time she managed to get back to the turian wing, it was obvious Garrus had had enough of the hospital for one day. He was sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, IV still firmly implanted into his good arm and his tunic half open from his recent dressing changes. She noticed there were a few less than she’d seen that morning, just more new skin and newly formed plate. 

“I told you I’m not staying,” he stated, surprisingly calm, to the asari trying to corral him.

“Advisor Vakarian, please…”

His voice didn’t raise, but it did drop an octave as he started to lose patience. “Doctor, we’ve been over this. I will not be staying.” He annunciated each word, each syllable a hammer on a nail. “Remove the IV before I rip it out myself.”

The doctor might have responded, but Solana felt her intervention was necessary. “Hey, G. No need to give the good doctor a heart attack. Play nice, alright?”

He locked eyes with his sister. “This is nice,” he deadpanned.

“I’d hate to see what nasty is then,” she replied lightly. “Doctor, I’ll take it from here. Please get the release papers.”

“But…” she began.

“No buts. If you have a problem speak with Doctor Mephran. Until such a time he deems it necessary for my brother to stay in hospital, he’s coming home with me.” The nurse left in a huff, but the siblings were alone not a minute later, Garrus free of the needle once more. “Man… Garrus, you’ve got a nasty bite there. What did she do?”

He glared at his sister and said nothing, instead replacing his shirt and tunic properly. The younger Vakarian didn’t flinch. Instead, she rolled over to him and smoothed his collar down into place. “Easy, big brother.”

He released a long breath. “Yeah. Alright. It’s been a long few hours.”

“Home then?”

He shook his head. “Primarch needs me for a few hours, first. I’ll be home with dad for dinner.”

She knew better than to argue this time. “Let’s grab a cab, then.”

+_+_+_+

Shepard didn’t attempt to make up with Garrus that day. Instead, she finished her exercises and went to sleep with Miranda watching her closely and James and Grunt guarding her. She refused visitors in the evening, eating alone and catching up on news with her new omnitool. The rest of the crew was anxious to see her, but Miranda managed to keep them away with a little coaxing. Although, it was more likely that Grunt standing behind her was the culprit for their easy agreeance. 

The Commander’s recovery was moving swiftly now that her cybernetics were back online, bone and muscle reknit faster than the doctors ever thought possible. Another week, and she’d be able to walk freely and maybe even leave the hospital for most of the day. Another six weeks at most, and she’d be discharged and back at the gym. Amazing thing, those upgrades were.

Most of the crew was still living on the  _ Normandy _ , the engineers working to restore the engines with real parts and the rest of the crew repairing what they could or transferring to Citadel work crews. Liara had been lost to Shadow Broker work, Javik helping where he could. Chakwas had taken shifts at Huerta, and Adams was in command of the  _ Normandy  _ for the time being. 

The _ Benjamin Davis _ ’ crew had been lending a hand with the repairs on the  _ Normandy  _ and many teams were working on the Citadel repair force. The extra able bodies were welcome and Captain Dell and Commander Tuer fell into place within Admiral Hackett’s plan effortlessly.The carrier would become an extra vessel used to transport troops back to their homeworlds, specifically the krogan, due to its size. 

Chief Kuen and his team of marines had been scattered initially. The Chief spending hours after arrival on the Citadel getting to the hospital, only to be sent away by turian Hierarchy soldiers and C-Sec officers. Those few hours were enough to leave his team in disarray and without a clear goal other than crowd control for the  _ Normandy’s  _ arrival. His second, Sergeant Waldorf, had managed well enough, but Kuen’s return was greatly appreciated by the older man. He didn’t much like- well- people.

Kuen had finally managed to settle everything with his team and Captain Dell, and was only now allowed a bit of lieu time. Instead of taking the time for himself, however, the Chief headed for the hospital to see if he could reconnect with Advisor Vakarian. Over those short days, he had started to develop a friendship with the turian. Knowing that, if he didn’t try to see him soon, he likely wouldn’t ever get the chance again. Such was the life of a soldier. You made contact with so many people in so many different places that you’d normally never see again.

Although… when you were able to make a connection with someone like Vakarian, you made sure it was left on good terms. One never knows when you’d need a helping hand from one of the Hierarchy’s finest. 

Upon arrival at the hospital, he was given the run around for about an hour trying to get access to even a smidgen of information. It wasn’t until he messaged Doctor T’Soni that he found out the turian wasn’t even at the hospital any longer! It had been a waste of time, but at least he knew where to go… the turian embassy.

+_+_+_+_+

 

The meeting ran late again. Now that Victus had the opportunity to use Garrus, he was reluctant to make decisions without the younger man’s input and forethought. They didn’t always agree, just as they hadn’t during the war, but his insight was welcomed with open arms. Priorities started shifting, plans were enhanced, and flaws brought out into the open. At some points, it felt more like Victus and Garrus were the only two people in the room. That, instead of sitting around a boardroom table, they were back in the  _ Normandy’s  _ lounge. 

Adrien had missed this.

The simple comradery between them. The ability to bounce unconventional ideas off one another until they’d covered all angles. It hadn’t been the same working with the Generals. Victus’ unorthodox methods had always made unpopular with Command. Considering he was Command now… it was an odd feeling. 

By the time they were finished, the artificial sunlight on the Presidium was starting to fade to darkness. The Primarch dismissed everyone, but asked Garrus to hold on a moment. Castis stayed back as well, at least until the room was clear. “I’ll wait for you outside,” he said to his son before turning to the Victus. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

The younger man nodded sharply. “What needs to be done. That’s all.” Garrus looked between the other turians, not liking being left out of the loop. Castis didn’t argue and he turned on heel, leaving. “I’m sorry about that, Garrus. Your father’s concerned for you, and he doesn’t much like what I’m going to ask.”

Garrus carefully stood up from his chair and paced out to the balcony, Adrien following him. “You want me to go with you back to Palaven,” he stated calmly. The Primarch’s silence was enough of an answer. “Is this a request or an order?”

“Whatever you need it to be. If you want to go, that is.”

He sighed and rubbed a hand over his fringe. “I’m not so sure I’d be much use.” He gestured to his oxygen tube.

“I don’t need your abilities as a soldier, Vakarian.” He placed a careful hand on his good shoulder. “Two more nights before I leave. Think on it. In the meantime, I’ll make the arrangements. Easy enough to cancel them, but a little harder to wait until the last moment.”

+_+_+

 

Castis paced outside the Embassy as he waited for Garrus. He’d messaged Solana and let her know they would be on the way shortly and called for their car. He checked his omnitool after a few minutes, growing slightly impatient. The stress of all of this must have been getting to him, he was acting out of character. 

“Advisor Vakarian!” Called a male voice on his left. He instinctively looked up and saw a human marine heading towards him. The man slowed down then stopped short. “I’m sorry, sir. I thought you were someone else.” He back peddled quickly, obviously realising that he wasn’t his son. 

“It’s fine, Chief.” He replied after glancing at the man’s epaulets.

He shook his head. “No. It’s not, I should have confirmed first. You obviously aren’t who I was looking for.”

Castis couldn’t help the small smile, he was polite enough and he didn’t blame the man for mistaking them. He waved off the apology. “My son does take after me. If you take a few years off and add the scars, we’d be almost identical.”

“Ah… well.” He laughed then saluted the taller man. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Vakarian. I’m Chief Warrant Officer Kuen of the  _ SSV Benjamin Davis _ .” 

The turian accepted his salute with a nod. “I assume you are looking for Garrus, then?” The soldier nodded in the affirmative and asked if he’d seen him. “I have, he should be out shortly.”

“If you don’t mind my waiting with you, sir? I’d like to speak with him a moment before you depart. We parted rather... abruptly last time.” At Castis questioning glance, he elaborated. “As assigned by my Captain, I was in charge of security on the  _ Normandy  _ for the duration of the journey back to the Sol System. Advisor Vakarian was out of commission for the most part.” The elder man agreed and encouraged him to continue. “When we arrived in the system, I was on duty with the rest of the marines ensuring, if we were boarded, that the crew would be safe. Vakarian manned the guns and then was on the CIC, before I could join him there, he had been taken off the ship by ambulance.”

“I imagine that the Hierarchy took over security from there?”

Kuen nodded. “Correct, sir. I wasn’t able to see him at the hospital and he’s already back to work. Tough as nails, that one.”

Castis hummed thoughtfully. He might have said more, but Garrus appeared at the top of the stairs a moment later. Looking tired and, if he was honest, a little frail. He watched as his son noted they weren’t alone and, suddenly, the mask was back in place, as though it had never fallen from his features. “Dad. Chief.”

“It’s good to see you up and about, Advisor.” The human held out a hand and Garrus shook it, as was customary for humans. “Thought you’d be down for a least a week. Shows what I know.”

Garrus titled his head thoughtfully. “You know me well enough to know that when I’m needed, I’ll be there. How’s the crew? I haven’t had much time to check in.”

Kuen smiled. “They’re all well and improving, as far as I can tell. Even Captain Dell hasn’t shown any hint of slowing down despite that bum knee of his. He passed on his regards. The  _ Normandy  _ is much the same as the Davis. Lieutenant Adams has been in charge since you and the doc left. Ship’s getting a solid repair while she’s in the docks, too.”

“Pass my regards on to them, I’m not certain I’ll have time before Palaven.” Castis stiffened, he hadn’t expected Garrus to have decided so soon, let alone decided on leaving. If Garrus noticed then, he didn’t comment. The Chief had just agreed to his request and the pair said their goodbyes. Garrus slid into the skycar first and Castis followed him. He was about to start a discussion but was interrupted. 

“Now isn’t the time.” Garrus’ eyes were closed and his head was back against the headrest. Exhaustion seeped off him in waves.

“Later,” Castis agreed. 

They took the ride in silence, and it wasn’t two minutes before Garrus started to doze off only to jolt awake a few minutes later. “It’s alright, son, sleep. I’ll wake you when we get home.” He had agreed, a little reluctantly. Castis set the car to take a slightly longer route with less traffic so he could at least have a few extra minutes of rest before arriving at the apartment. 

When they arrived, Garrus woke on his own. The slow deceleration and whirling down of the engines enough of a change to rouse him. Solana was waiting for them inside, once again in the kitchen with dinner just about completed. “Long day?” she asked taking them both in.

Her father nodded. “Too long. Victus assigned taskings for most of the day tomorrow and we won’t conviene until the late afternoon.” He nuzzled her before taking the bowls she’d set out to the table. “And you?”

“After I dropped Garrus off, it was quiet. I saw Chellick in the market with that new friend of his…” At Garrus’ questioning look, she elaborated. “He’s taken a real shine to the asari that found the Commander. Her name’s Tamara, a Commando that had been originally stationed on the Destiny Ascension.”

He hummed thoughtfully. “I didn’t think he’d ever take a shine to anyone. Too in love with his work to spend time loving elsewhere.” He sat down at his place and tore into the ration bar that Solana had left for him in addition to the home cooked food. 

“Not like he has much higher to go,” Castis added. “He is the Executor now. He can slack off a little.”

Garrus chuckled. “Never thought I’d hear that from you, of all people.”

He shrugged. “I had your mother, and she didn’t come first often enough. Maybe he’s realised that a little younger than I did.” The three of them dug into their meals for a few minutes, the sombre undercurrent of the Vakarian Matriarch's passing prevalent. They were nearly done when Castis broke the silence. “So, Garrus… you’re planning to go with the Primarch?”

Solana dropped her utensil, but quickly picked it up as though it hadn’t happened. 

Garrus nodded slowly. “I’m still considering but, most likely, yes. Adrien asked for my help. What kind of turian would I be if I said no?”

Solana might have responded, but Castis got to it first. “One who understands his priorities. You can still help the Primarch from here, son. And get the medical attention you still need. There will always be work to be done.”

“I understand that, and, as for my health, Victus is working to arrange a doctor to accompany his ship. I’m sure whoever it is will be sufficient for upkeep.”

“Upkeep?” Solana spat. “Garrus, maybe you need your head checked out too. If you really believe what you’re going through is normal, then perhaps you have more problems than I thought.”

“Solana…” Castis warned, but Garrus held up a hand.

“No. She’s right. I’m a mess and I know it. But that doesn’t change how I need to handle myself. I need to keep busy, else I’ll drive myself mad or worse. Go back to a place where I don’t want to be ever again. I’ll get the care I need whether it’s here or with Victus. There’s no reason for me to stay other than the two of you, but you’ll follow soon enough.”

“What about Shepard?” Sol asked quietly.

He closed his eyes and took a breath. When he was ready, he replied, voice sharp as glass but just as frail. “She doesn’t want me.”

“I thought you loved her, that you bonded.”

“Of course I do,” he replied, more in control than his sister had expected. “I love her enough that I’ll listen to her and get out. Get out of her life, if that’s what she wants from me. We got each other through this war, that was the deal. It’s not her fault I got too attached, I bonded. Humans aren’t like us. They can fall out of love. I knew the risks going in and I let it tear me apart the first time. I don’t want that again. So now… as long as she’s alive and safe? That’s all I care about.”

With the meal finished and the discussion effectively over, Garrus dismissed himself. Doctor Mephran would arrive soon to set him up for the night. He needed a lot more food than he was eating. He was just barely hitting maintenance caloric intake for his size, let alone the additional calories he needed to start regaining weight, and that meant twice daily nutrient packs. 

Solana and Castis sat quietly, mulling over what they’d just discussed. Sol felt a little sick from it, Castis was more stunned than anything. Hearing Garrus be so open and honest about his relationship with the Commander was a little hard to swallow. Unsettling? Maybe. Solana carefully levered herself up and slowly followed her brother upstairs, hopping and sliding. She wished she looked a little more dignified, but that wasn’t important at the moment. 

“Garrus…” she tried softly as she pushed open his half closed door. He was seated on the bed, staring a hole in the floor, his tunic half undone and the sleep shirt he’d worn the day prior beside him. She limped over and sat beside him. “I want to help. Let me help you.”

He let out the breath he’d been holding, almost like a laugh. “You sound just like her. She always wants to help.”

“I think she wants to be with you, Garrus. I met her once before you got back, dad sent me to help her while my leg healed. She was so concerned that you weren’t there when she woke up. Knew it was wrong even before she was told the  _ Normandy  _ was missing.”

“Sol… she told me to leave. To get out. I can’t go against what she wants. She’s been forced into so many things over the years and I don’t want our relationship to be something she’s forced herself into.” He leaned back a little to stare at the ceiling instead of the floor. “I just… I’m not sure anymore.” When Garrus fumbled with the clasp to his tunic, Solana brushed his hand out of the way and helped him shrug the shirt off. He pulled the looser one on and leaned down to remove his boots.

“At least say goodbye before you leave?” 

He remained silent a moment before nodding slowly. “One last time before we part.”

_+_+_+_

The next day passed too quickly again. Between the morning hospital checkup and more meetings, Garrus was tied up all day. Things were much the same for Shepard, It was another day of hard rehab work in the privacy of her own room, and a video call with the Admiral had her down for the count, asleep early in the afternoon. She was refusing to see anyone but Miranda and Doctor Chakwas. Even Grunt had been banished to the hallway. 

Something needed to be done. And soon.

Miranda needed help, so she called the only other person in the galaxy that the Commander trusted like family, Tali’Zorah. The quarian Admiral had been running the show on Earth to fix the geth and, thus far, hadn’t been able to make it to the Citadel. The ex-operative knew that she had wanted to come, but had been too swamped to do anything about it.

Or, at least, she had been before today. The news hit the Citadel in a grand wave, one of the geth had been restarted. Completely independant from the geth network, just as they had been before the red beam hit. That single action, the sole reactivation they’d had in over a month created a chain reaction, an exponential wave, that ended with the complete reactivation of the hive mind.

It was different this time, though. This time, each unit, while still being connected, had a mind of its own. It was more like how EDI had interacted with Legion, only those links were suddenly permanent. Each program had free will, a soul, while still having those connections that made it geth.

If sound could travel in space, the cheers would have been heard on the Citadel from Earth. This crucial step was a turning point in the recovery efforts, just like finding Shepard and then the  _ Normandy  _ had been. The successes outweighed the failures by a half or more. 

So when Miranda’s call came, Tali booked herself on the next available shuttle to the Citadel. It was unknowingly set to arrive just hours before Garrus was set to depart for Palaven, but that bit of information was unknown to most, a very well kept secret.  

The only person outside the Hierarchy that knew, thus far, was sitting on a shuttle bound for the  _ Benjamin Davis _ , Chief Juergen Kuen. Unfortunately, he didn’t know how important that piece of information was, nor did he know that no one else was privy to it. It was late by the time the chief arrived back onboard his ship, and he headed straight for his quarters to get some shuteye. The soldier, as head of security, would be meeting with the Captain in the morning and the krogan leader, Urdnot Wrex, pertaining to  the krogan transport. It wouldn’t do for him to be sleep lagged, not when he had duty starting early. Especially duty that involved krogan. 

When Juegen woke up, he went through his usual routine of a workout and shower before grabbing a strong cup of coffee and heading for the Captain’s ready room. Kuen liked his coffee strong enough to stand a spoon in, and that meant he had to bring his own. He arrived first to the meeting after Dell, who greeted him warmly. “Chief! How’s the day?”

“The stars are still shining,” he replied, as always. “It’ll be better after the jo.” Dell smiled and lifted his own mug to take a sip. “I can always bring you a cup of the good stuff, if you’d like it, sir?”

This back and forth was so typical. So normal it almost hurt. The war had taken so much from them, but it was those little things that had kept them sane. Kuen almost missed Dell’s retort. “Got enough hair on my chest.” He might have said more, but there was a knock at his door before Commander Tuer entered with the Warlord on her heels. Both he and the Chief stood up. “Ah, perfect timing as always.”

“Captain Dell.” The red eyed krogan greeted shortly before reaching out a hand to grasp the human’s forearm. “Fine ship you’ve got. The Commander showed me what you’ve got set up for my men. It should do fine.”

“Excellent, I’m glad to hear it was a success, Urdnot Clan Leader.”

“Wrex will do.” He turned to the other human and took his arm like he had Dell’s.

Kuen did his best to reciprocate the gesture. “I’m Chief Kuen, sir. I’ll be overseeing security for the duration of the journey to Tuchanka.”

Wrex smiled an enormous smile. “Fair enough. Have you dealt with many korgan before?” He shook his head. “You’re in for a treat, then. If you’re anything like Shepard, though, you’ll be fine.”

“Commander Shepard?” 

“Do you know any other Shepards?” He laughed for a moment before making himself comfortable on the couch, it was the only seat big enough for the hulking alien. “So. I hear you were the ones responsible for bringing the  _ Normandy  _ home. I suppose I should thank you for that.”

Dell moved to sit across from Wrex. “It was our pleasure and a lot of luck. You spent time there during the war, didn’t you?”

“I did. Spent a few months taking down Saren before heading back to Tuchanka on the original too. Then another month during this damn war.” They took a few minutes then to discuss the post war efforts and the plans for transport. Bakara would be accompanying the soldiers back and would coordinate as required.  

When they’d finished with the majority of the details and all of the security related items, Jurgen stood up. “It was a pleasure, Wrex. I’ll escort you back to the shuttlebay.”

“Likewise, Kuen. Too bad I’m needed here a little longer, would have made the trip interesting.”

Juegen smiled and turned to his Captain. “Just one thing, sir, Advisor Vakarian asked me to pass on his regards. I managed to catch up with him at the turian embassy yesterday.”

“Excellent, was he doing better?”

“Not by miles, but enough to be back at work. He leaves for Palaven later today.”

The krogan stiffened. “Palaven?” he asked, terse.

Kuen turned quickly back towards him. “Yeah. You served with him, right?” Wrex nodded. “Well, he mentioned he’s heading there, I figure he’s probably going to be on the Primarch’s ship considering his position.”

“Dammit, that ship leaves in a few hours. Doesn’t leave me much time.”

“What’s wrong?” Dell asked, concerned. “I’d like to help if we can.

The krogan shook his head in frustration. “I need a com unit.”

+_+_+_+

“He’s what!”

_ “Keep your helmet on,” _ Wrex replied.  _ “I said he’s leaving.” _

“Bosh’tet!” Tali muttered back. “I’m less than an hour out. Can you contact anyone else? Miranda or Grunt maybe?”

_ “Already tried, communications are spotty outside of ship to ship contact. The only reason I even got you on the com is because you’re on an Alliance shuttle.” _ The young quarian slammed a fist down beside the communication unit and swore again. Wrex chuckled.  _ “Never heard that one before.” _

She took a breath to calm herself down a little, the pilot and navigator had jumped when she’d hit the console. “Sorry. It’s just one thing after another with these two. They’re so stubborn. I’ll do what I can.”

_ “I know you will. Wrex, out.” _

Tali turned to the pilot. “Any chance we can speed this shuttle up? I need to be on the Citadel as soon as possible.” The pilot was about to protest when she cut her off. “If anyone questions you, you are acting on Admiral Zorah’s authority. This is a matter of Galactic importance.”

“Understood, ma’am.” She reached up and moved the seat belt switch into the ‘on’ position. “Best you take a seat. My ship may be a passenger carrier, but she’s got enough kick left in her to get you there in a jiffy.”

Tali smiled under her helmet and strapped herself into the jumpseat. “Take us in.”

The discussion with Citadel Control went smoothly. More smoothly than she had originally expected it to. Their docking was moved up by twenty minutes and to a more central location. Tali spent the remaining half hour of the flight setting up messages to flag the key players on the Citadel and to attempt to stall Victus’ ship. 

She was the first off when the airlock opened and through security in a flash, despite her species, which was a welcome change. As her tech connected to the Citadel’s network, her messages fired off to everyone that might be able to help. To Miranda, James, Steve, and Grunt, she sent an emergency ping to either contact her or meet her at Huerta. Then to Chellick, Chakwas, Adams, and Victus, she sent an urgent message asking them to call her. Finally, there was one to Garrus himself, the language in it was… colourful to say the least.

Her efforts found her at a loss of where to go next. She didn’t know where the turian would be, or what ship he was set to depart on. That left her with only one option, the hospital. Where she hoped to intercept someone, anyone, that could help her stop Garrus from making the stupidest decision of his life.

+_+_+_+

 

Garrus stood in the hall outside Shepard’s hospital room. It was midday and had quieted down from the morning rush of doctors and nurses doing their rounds. Two guards were in the hallway outside the Commander’s room; a human from C-Sec and a krogan from Aralakh. “I’m sorry, Advisor Vakarian, but we’re under strict orders. No one, other than the doctors, are allowed to see Commander Shepard.” At least the human was cordial. The krogan had been rather harsh with the initial refusal.

“I am departing the Citadel in just over an hour, I only need a minute with her.” He was tempted to force his way in, but knew it wouldn’t go well, he was too tired to put up a decent fight. His strength hadn’t returned. “At least ask her if she’ll see me?”

“We were given explicit instructions, sir. From the Commander herself. No one gets through this door. We will have you removed if necessary, I’m sorry.”

He sighed deeply. “I understand. Will you at least give her something for me? Even give it to one of her doctors first and they can give it to her.”

The officer hesitated a moment. “I guess if they say it is alright…” He held out a hand for the small package in Garrus’ own hand.

“Make sure she gets this.” He turned to leave and took a few paces before stopping a moment. He might have said more but, instead, he shook his head and kept walking. He wasn’t bothered by anyone as he walked through the halls. In fact, people seemed to sense the imposing turian’s want to be left alone as they parted for him. It wasn’t until he was in the cab, headed towards the docks, that he let out a sob. Just one. He wouldn’t allow himself anymore than that. 

The young turian calmed himself back down before he arrived at the docks, security was tight but his face and name garnered him access to the fast lane. Before long, he was saying goodbye to his father and sister. They would be joining him on Palaven over the coming months. For the first time in a long time, they parted ways knowing they would see each other again soon. It was a good feeling.

He boarded the  _ Manae  _ at Victus’ side. Everything was in order for a slightly early departure. Considering the level of excitement at seeing the homeworld again, it was understandable that the crew was on edge. They’d been away too long.

+_+_+_+

 

By the time Tali made it to Huerta, she was out of breath, having overridden the safety protocol on the cab she’d been in and run from where she parked into the main lobby. The quarian was still getting over a small infection from the suit breach and leg injury from the final push, but it wouldn’t kill her, it just made running difficult. James was waiting at the elevator. “Sparks!” He called out when he saw her. “What’s all the fuss about?”

“I need to speak with Shepard, NOW!” They stepped into the elevator and the marine hit the door close button after pressing the one for Shepard’s floor. 

“She hasn’t been taking visitors, but maybe she’ll make an exception for you.”

The quarian huffed. “She damn well better. Bosh’tets, the both of them.”

“What’s got you so riled up? I mean your message said it was urgent, but you still haven’t told me what’s going on.”

“It’s Garrus. He’s going back to Palaven.” 

James cocked his head to the side confused. “Wait, what…? You mean like eventually, right? Solana said he’s back to work, but still wasn’t doing too hot.”

She shook her head. “I haven’t heard from him. With communications as spotty as they have been, personal messages aren’t getting through. I had to use the emergency network to even get the message to you. I mean, I’ve had an update or two from the others, but nothing consistent. It was Wrex that actually found out he’s leaving.” The door opened and Vega led the way at a light jog. “It was by accident, something one of the marines on the  _ Benjamin Davis _ said that tipped him off.”

“When does he leave? Please don’t tell me it’s on the Primarch’s ship.” He stopped suddenly when she didn’t answer. “Ai dios mio! If he’s leaving with Victus... Shit. We’d better hurry.” When they reached the door to Shepard’s room two of the usual guards were there. “We need to see the Commander.”

The human C-Sec Officer spoke up. “I’m sorry, Lieutenant Vega. The Commander has asked to be left alone. We can’t let you in. The doctors are the only ones allowed in right now.”

“This is an emergency!” James said sharply. “Admiral Zorah needs to see Commander Shepard, now. Move, before I move you myself.” The younger man flushed a little and stepped aside to allow the quarian to pass. The krogan chuckled, but said nothing. James rounded on him. “Go get Lawson, we’re gonna need her too.” 

Tali pushed past the men and opened the door, Shepard was awake and reading on her omnitool when she entered. The human woman looked up and her face lit up a little when she saw her young friend. “Tali! I didn’t know you were coming.”

Tali checked to make sure the door closed behind her and went straight to the bed to pull Jane into a hug. “It was short notice. Sorry I couldn’t call first, coms are spotty. I’m so glad you’re alright.”

“I’m well enough, but how are you?”

She pulled back and shrugged. “Getting over an infection, but nothing I can’t handle. I’m more worried about you, Shepard. You and Garrus more specifically. What happened?”

The Commander stiffened before looking away. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“If you ever want to repair what you two had, you had better start talking.” Shepard looked back up at her confused, she might have said something but Tali cut her off. “He’s leaving. If we don’t move now, then he’ll be on his way to Palaven and any hope you’ve got of fixing this is gone.”

“If he wants to go, I’m not going to stop him.”

“No! You Bosh’tet! He loves you.” She cut Shepard off with a further explanation. “Miranda called me, she told me about your fight. I was on the way here when Wrex got in contact, he said Garrus is leaving with the Primarch. We have to work fast.”

“I… I can’t leave the hospital. I’m not cleared...”

Tali scoffed. “Since when does that stop you? You’re Commander Fucking Shepard. Act like it!” 

Shepard smiled a little, it was subtle but just enough that Tali may have gotten through to her. “Alright. How the hell are we going to get to the docks?”

“Leave that to me…” Said a disembodied voice beside the quarian. Tali jumped and Kasumi appeared a second later a wolfish smile on her face. “Good to see you’re back, Shep. I’ve got this.” She winked and disappeared once again. 

Kasumi’s grand plan had been a cloaked wheelchair which, after getting dressed into fatigues, Shepard was helped into by Miranda. The Ex-Cerberus operative wasn’t exactly pleased with the idea of letting Shepard out of the hospital, but she’d relented rather easily. This was the first time since she’d sent Garrus away that she’d showed any real drive or motivation. Lawson wasn’t about to let that go to waste. 

Shepard’s typical squad of three was thrown out the window when everyone wanted to join in on the chase. Kasumi had to operate the cloak, Miranda was medical support, Tali emotional support and well… James just didn’t want to be left behind. They headed for the roof as a unit, the guards outside Shepard’s door none the wiser to her departure considering she and thief were cloaked as they left. They didn’t have much time, but they had to try. 

Kasumi had an aircar waiting for them, one which Tali proceeded to hack into and disable the safety keys for so they could move a little faster. They would arrive at the docks with just minutes to spare. Or so they hoped.

 

+_+_+_+

Garrus paced in the war room of Victus’ ship. He was anxious, to say the least. His goodbyes had been said and his meager belongings packed away. Now, standing alone waiting for take-off, he was second guessing himself. Should he have fought harder? He wasn’t sure. He wanted to be with his bondmate, but she didn’t seem to want to be with him anymore. He refused to force it on her. Not now.

For so long, Jane’s good nature had been exploited and she’d been ordered to do so many things she would rather not have done. From the disaster with the Alpha Relay, to the petty errands that she ran around the galaxy completing, her life had been full of everyone else’s wants and needs. He’d been guilty of it all too often as well. Doctor Saleon, Sidonis, his downward spiral into drug addiction… too many times she’d been there when he asked. 

The turian had done better in recent months. Ever since they’d reunited on Manae, just a week after the start of the war, they had been an unstoppable team. Shepard had confirmed her want to reinitiate their relationship, and Vakarian had been there at her back. He’d worked as her unofficial XO, solving as many issues as he could so that she didn’t have to. Fighting at her side on the battlefield as always, but now working as an equal in the political arena they’d managed to find themselves in. He knew Victus had only backed Shepard because of his influence. And that had been just one piece of the very difficult puzzle. 

No. The decision to leave was made for him. Shepard was the only thing in this galaxy that mattered to him and doing what she wanted was all he could do at present. What use would he be to her now anyways? He was a cripple. A scarred, malnourished, cripple. He couldn’t fight, could barely stand for more than a few hours. Couldn’t even keep enough food down in a day to start his recovery. No. Leaving was the kindest thing. For both of them.

He stiffened as the door opened behind him. A single pair of heavy boots entered the room before the door closed. The familiar scent of Adrien wafted in and Garrus relaxed a smidgen. “Victus,” he said after he knew his voice would be steady. “I thought you’d be on the bridge.”

The older man took a few paces forwards and stopped beside his younger friend. “It would seem that you need me more than the rest of the crew does at present. I had a few minutes to spare, thought it would be best to come and check on you. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

Garrus leaned forwards to rest his palms against the console he was standing in front of. “The outer colonies, I was going over which we should send aid to first.” He pressed a few keys and pulled up one of the hardest hit locations. “If we start with…”

“Garrus, stop.” Victus interrupted him and turned the screen off. “You need to rest, I need you at your best.”

He couldn’t help the scoff. “My best is long gone. This is what’s left.” 

The elder hummed reassuringly. “Your strength will come back. Time is a gift we haven’t had in a long while. Now is when you need to take advantage. Sleep, recuperate. You’ll be at your best in no time.”

“Honestly,” he shrugged. “I’m not really seeing much of a point. I did what had to be done. I’m tired. Once we’re done Victus? I’m not sure what I’ll do.”

“I vaguely remember something about a beach and a bunch of hybrid babies.” The Primarch tried for levity. “She’ll come back to you.”

“I’m not so sure. Once she’s made up her mind…”

Victus grabbed Garrus’ shoulder and pulled him back a little so he had to look him in the eye. “I saw the way she looked at you. It was the little things you did for one another that tipped me off to your relationship long before you told me about it. That woman loves you.”

The younger pulled away, his hackles up and voice slightly raised. “Then why did she tell me to leave? I spent weeks getting back, taking care of her crew, very nearly starving to death. We were together barely two minutes before she told me to get out.” He took a strained breath. “I was a convenience. I don’t blame her for not wanting me now. I was useful, I had her back both on and off the battlefield. But now? The war is over. She’ll have potential mates flocking to her. She’s got no use of a battered man like me.”

“Garrus… you are brilliant, but you can be so dense. Let her heal. Take the time to heal yourself and you’ll see. She’ll ask you back.”

He sighed slowly, tired with this ordeal. “And if she doesn’t?”

“She will,” he insisted. Before either could say anymore both of their omnitools pinged. “It’s time. Join me on the bridge, Vakarian, I want you at my side for this.”

With a nod, he agreed, any hint of their argument dropping behind the stoic mask he kept close at hand and Archangel bubbling to the surface once again to protect any sense of sanity that Garrus had left. 

+_+_+_+

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FanFiction Reccommendation: Driving Force by LiterallyThePresident http://archiveofourown.org/works/11102004 . Because I still can't get enough of MacenXAvitus ME:A


	12. Aftermath

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Garrus is gone, Shepard is distraught. And no one else knows what to do.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short one after that last epic. Enjoy!

Chapter - 12

The look of pure, unadulterated, heartbreak on Jane’s face was palatable. The rest of her team could feel it in the air as the stood at her side and watched the  _ Manae  _ disappear from sight. They’d been too late. The Primarch’s ship had begun the unmooring process by the time they reached the docks and had left port completely by the time they got through to the loading platform. 

Shepard forced herself up out of the chair to lean heavily against the railing, watching the last speck of the turian ship disappear from sight. Their small group had started to garner attention from the others watching the  _ Manae  _ depart, but the Commander paid them no mind. Her lover was gone. And it was all her fault.

She was so angry she could have screamed. And might have… if not for the soft voice of Solana behind her. “Shepard?” the younger woman asked tentatively. The Commander stood still as a statue, hands tensing around the metal railing. Her squad backed off slightly, leaving the two women standing side by side, staring out into space.

“Please tell me he wasn’t on that ship,” she pled quietly without looking away.

The turian’s mouth quirked into a frown. “He was. He told you he was leaving and then he did.” Shepard looked up quickly, staring straight into Solana’s eyes. The taller woman hesitated over her next words. “He didn’t tell you… did he?”

Even as the Commander’s bottom lip trembled, she shook her head. The Commander took a moment to clear her throat. “No. He didn’t.”

“He went to the hospital this morning, I don’t understand. He went there with the express purpose of seeing you… to say goodbye before he left. I… I thought maybe after seeing you again, he’d reconsider.”

“I guess not.” Shepard replied, voice bitter.

The Vakarian patriarch stepped up behind his daughter. “You two are quite the match, Commander. Garrus thinks you don’t want to be with him any longer. Your being here proves the contrary. We’re missing something once again.”

“Mr. Vakarian?” Shepard asked, this being the first time she’d met the turian.

“Castis, please. I apologise that we aren’t meeting on better terms, but intervention seems necessary. For both your sakes.” He paused a moment and took a quick glance around. “Perhaps we should move to somewhere more secluded.” 

Shepard froze a moment, then did her own subtle cursory glance. People had started to stare and gape. Cameras were beginning to come out, and reporters were starting to appear. “There is nothing left to say.”

He pulled up his omnitool and passed his address over regardless. “You’re welcome to contact me, Commander. If you decide that there is.”

She sat back down in her chair. “There won’t be.” Without further adieu, she disappeared under the cloak, much to the chagrin of the paperartzi and the surprise of the turians in front of her.

Castis nodded to the rest of her squad, then turned on the media and expertly deflected them. His years in C-Sec were good for many a thing, the most useful as of late, though, seemed to be his public speaking abilities. All charm and class while manipulating them to get his way.

Shepard was glad she didn’t need to watch, nor deal with the crowd. Kasumi was quick to get her out of there and to the waiting aircar, they had a few minutes to wait before the rest of the team would make it back. James had stayed with the vehicle, but Tali and Miranda would take an extra minute to ensure they were not followed. 

“How’re you feeling, Lola?” He asked when they appeared. Then stupidly added, “where’s Scars?”

Shepard frowned. “He’s gone.” Kasumi made a  _ what the fuck _ gesture and he mouthed a quick  _ sorry _ before apologising.

“Aw, shit. I’m sorry. Shouldn’t have asked that.”

“It’s alright, James. I’m just confused. Solana was there, at the docks, and she said Garrus had come by the hospital this morning. I was awake most of the day, he didn’t show. And now he’s just… gone.”

“Uhm, I think he might have tried. To see you, I mean.” The marine reached into his pocket and pulled out a small box. He passed it to her. “The C-Sec guard gave this to me while you were talking to Tali. I think it might be from him. With all the excitement earlier, I kinda forgot about it.” James rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed.

Jane took the small box from him. It was the size of her palm and wrapped in the tougher leather like paper that turians tended towards, much less inclined to rip under a careless talon than human wrapping paper. “What is it?” she asked more to herself than the other two.

Kasumi shrugged and moved to the controls. “I guess you’ll have to open it to find out. James? Come help me with this.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “You don’t need help to… oh… yeah, I’m coming. No problem.” The thief couldn’t help the slight giggle as James realised she was trying to give Shep a moment alone.

The Commander stared at the tiny box for a few moments before carefully pulling at the sealed edges. She managed to unseal one corner before stopping. Now wasn’t the time. She’d wait to open whatever it was until she knew he was coming back to her. 

“We’re going back to the hospital, Kasumi, I’ve had enough of today.”

 

+_+_+_+ 

 

Shortly after departure, Garrus was released for the day. Well, it was more akin to being released to his doctor for the day. The turian physician was highly skilled and came well recommended, but that didn’t make him any happier to be sitting with her. Doctor Imari was her name, from Palaven originally, but taken her schooling on the Citadel. She was a respiratory specialist, exactly what Garrus needed considering the state of his lungs. 

He remained on oxygen and Imari had him on an IV drip for fluids and nutrients. She wasn’t happy with his weight, nor his insistence on working, but she left him reading reports as she ran her scans. She asked him questions about his health and how he was feeling, all of which he answered as shortly as possible.

If Imari hadn’t had a copy of his medical records then she wouldn't have known much. Vakarian was a difficult patient to say the least, as evidenced by notes in Mephran and Chakwas’ records. She also would not have otherwise known why he was so reluctant to take any pain medications or have anything but a semi-permanent intravenous line inserted into his arm. She’d had difficult patients before, but this turian was taking the top spot by leaps and bounds.

When she finished her tests, she moved to sit in the chair beside his bed. The medical bay was small on the  _ Manae _ , enough room for two beds, a few chairs, and the doctor’s desk along with space for the medical equipment they required. “Advisor Vakarian? I need to talk to you about your treatment plan.”

Garrus glanced up from his datapad a moment before looking back down. “Can it wait for a bit? I’m in the middle of a report.”

“I’m sorry, it can’t,” she replied gently. He sighed and powered down the pad before looking up expectantly. “I’d like to discuss your medical history and treatment plan.”

Another sigh. “You were given my file, were you nor?” he asked. At her nod, he continued. “Then you have all of the information you need.”

“Advisor, I only have a few questions, it won’t take long. There are a few missing items in the report and I work better when I have the full story.”

“If that full story includes dates, locations, methods of infliction, then you’ll be disappointed. Those details are classified. Work with what you have.” She made to argue and he cut her off, voice remaining distant and dismissive. “You do not need to know what happened.”

“I need to know everything relevant to your case, sir. That includes some of those details. I have been tasked with determining your mental status as well as your physical. As with all turian physicians, I’ve been trained to handle PTSD.”

He put the report back down, a hand rubbing his forehead, trying to massage the ache away. “I’m handling it. I don’t need, nor want, your help. Just treat the physical symptoms and leave me to work.”

“Compromise with me, then. You follow each and every instruction I give you, to the letter, with regards to your physical health. Cut corners, and I force you to deal with your other issues. Deal?”

He huffed a small chuckle. “Drive a hard bargain. Fine. What’s the treatment plan, then?”

“You will be escorted at all times by one of my assistants when you aren’t with the ship’s senior staff.” Garrus agreed, reluctant. “Since you seem to be incapable of eating standard rations and, by Mephran’s report, homecooked food, you’ll be required to eat five nutrient bars a day.”

“Five…” he said confused. “A soldier in combat only needs two, maybe three a day. What makes you think I can eat five? Even need five.”

“It isn’t negotiable. You’ll eat them, in sight of myself or one of my staff. You’re eight kilos underweight.”

“No, I’m not,” he argued. “I weigh 95 kilos.”

“Which would be fine if you were carrying the proper essential fat stores instead of just muscle. Considering my imaging hardware shows, you’re sitting at two percent body fat, when you should be between six and eight, you’re underweight.”

“I’ve been sitting low on that scale since I was a kid!”  

She raised her brow plates. “Your files included those from childhood. You’re right, you’ve always sat between six and eight. After your two years off the radar, you were sitting a little under five. The average turian, average soldier, sits at ten. You need to gain weight. Get those essential fat levels back to something resembling your personal standards.”

He shook his head, resigned to his fate now. “I get it. I need to gain weight. But I refuse to eat rations more than my share. Stores are low.”

“Not on this ship, not when we’ve got the quarian liveships to help supplement with protein paste until we can restore farming on Palaven. There is enough food on this ship for the entire crew of 125 for nearly two years. And considering barely anyone else will be eating bars, I’ve managed to requisition an entire crate for you.”

Garrus might have argued further, but her threat seemed to have worked. “Fine, five.” 

“Now about your sleep patterns…”

+-+-+-+-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: I played with some human statistics for turian physiology. Apologies if I got too technical reference bodyfat percentages and such. I'm actually really interested in this stuff as I powerlift. Random factoid of the day...
> 
> Fanfiction Reccommendation: Beginnings and Ends by RedMare. Some SarenXNihlus for you. http://archiveofourown.org/works/6653665


	13. Too Fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three months later the next crisis hits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having a hard time writing something to go in between this and the previous chapter. So I've decided to hell with it! Enjoy this next installment.

Chapter 13 -

It happened fast. Too fast.

One minute Primarch Victus was giving a speech to a congregation of the Hierarchy’s finest. The next, he was on the ground, the wind knocked out of him. It took a few moments to regain his bearings; people were shouting and there was a hard weight on top of him. 

“Primarch! Stay down!” someone yelled. “Fuck. Get a medic!” The weight pulled off of him and, with a shake of his head, the Primarch began to return to himself. 

“Sir, I asked if you were injured?” a female officer questioned.

His hearing was fuzzy, almost as if he was underwater. A slight ringing in his ears began when the underwater haze started to dissipate. 

He looked down at his chest as he pushed himself into a sitting position behind the podium and, apparently, a wall of soldiers. Blood, not his own, spattered the front of the previously pristine uniform. 

“Fine.” Adrien groaned. “I’m fine. What happened?” He asked as he rubbed his pounding head.

“There was a shooter, officers are in pursuit.” Adrien tried to move, but he was ushered back again. “Sir, sit back. Concussive round seems to have knocked you around. Let’s wait for a medic, alright?” She seemed sincere, collected, that was more than he could say for himself. 

Rubbing a hand over his forehead and then along the back along his fringe, Victus nodded. “Fine,” he agreed, somewhat reluctant. Regardless of his confidence in the officer, he wasn't happy sitting around after he’d just been shot at. “I want more information, who the hell managed to bypass our security?”

“Too soon to tell. We don’t have any leads, yet,” she replied. “Forget that for now, I need to get you to a secure location. At the very least, away from here.” She waved over another soldier and he passed her a shield generator. “Yours didn’t survive the concussive blast. Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing. Two shooters, one to blast the shields and one to kill.”

He hummed thoughtfully, that had been a closer call than he first thought, then. “Explains why I feel like I got bowled over by a skycar,” he admitted. 

“Not quite a skycar, but General Vakarian hit you pretty hard…”

His heart stopped for a half second before he managed to speak. “Vakarian?”

The officer hesitated before moving aside to reveal the turian in question. “He got between you and the shooter, sir. Medic is working on him already.”

Adrien’s stomach dropped right out from under him. Blood was everywhere. The blue glass of his Advisor’s ever present visor was shattered underfoot. There were very few times where Adrien admitted to panic, but this would be one of them. Before he could think better of it, he moved towards his friend, stopping just barely out of the medic’s way, but mostly at the young officer’s insistence. “Sir, you need to let them work.”

“Garrus… what have you done?” he mumbled under his breath. He might have said more, but another yell overshadowed him.

“Let me through! Spirits damn it, that’s my son!” Castis caught his eye. “Adrien! Adrien, help me! Let me through!” The older man shoved at the officers holding him back. Had there not been three of them, Victus was sure that he would have made it through. 

“Let him in,” he ordered. He’d found his sense of command again. Victus pulled back and let the older man take his place at the fallen turian’s side. Castis would take care of him. “Has evac been called?”

The officer, whom he now remembered as Captain Favrus, nodded and looked at her omnitool. “Yes, sir. ETA two minutes.”

The Primarch stood up. “I want them found. I want them alive. It is unlikely that they were acting alone. Secure the area and get the best damn doctors on the planet. I will not lose a General to mercenaries. Spirits help them if I do.” He moved back to the podium, eyes searching for and quickly finding the camera crew that had been filming the address and subsequent assassination attempt.

Once he was certain he had their attention, he began to speak;

“The turian people will not be intimidated by what you've witnessed today. Whoever committed this heinous act will be found, will be punished. The Spirits do not take kindly to those who attack the Hierarchy, and neither will we.” Adrien was sure he looked near insane, what with Garrus’ blood spattered across his chest and shouting at the imbeciles on the other side of the camera. It was necessary, he knew. The galaxy needed to know that an assassination attempt would not derail the progress they were making, however close they'd come to succeeding. “We will stand tall. Fight for the cause that is our continued freedom from the Reapers and those who'd wish to harm our futures.” 

His eyes scanned the crowd, those soldiers not engaged in the chase all giving him full attention. “Do you stand with me?” 

A chorus of,”Yes, sir!” echoed in the square.

“Do you stand with the turian people?” 

“Yes, sir!” Echoed louder this time.  

“Our will shall not be broken. We will die for our cause. Not only that, but we will dare to live for it!” 

A final echo coursed through before the Primarch stepped back from the podium. The ambulance had arrived. 

Garrus was loaded onto a stretcher, unconscious. He and Castis joined him in the back, along with the two medics. Captain Favrus got into the front with the driver. She had been his duty officer for the day. As such, she'd likely coordinate for him with the other Generals from the hospital. 

With the door closed, they sped off to Cipritine’s main hospital. It had been badly damaged in the war, but the main wards had been restored. Hospitals were a top priority in the recovery effort. 

Adrien sat down as far from the action as possible, shooing the medic who tried to check him out. “Treat the General. I'm not dying before we get to the hospital. I can wait.”

Just as he finished his sentence, a high pitched whine sounded from one of the machines. His choice of words quickly became poor. Garrus was having a cardiac event of some kind. He stood up and grabbed Castis’ shoulders, keeping him back so the medics could work. They finished ripping his shirt from his chest and stuck automated defibrillator pads to him. One shouted clear before an electrical current forced Garrus’ heart back to a normal rhythm. They injected something into the soft tissue under his ribs and slathered the gunshot wound in medigel. The first medic worked on inserting an IV line, while the other stopped the bleeding with a clean compress. They left the AED pads in place in case they were needed again. 

A few tense minutes passed before the ambulance began to slow. As soon as the doors were opened, a full team of medical staff surrounded Garrus and took him inside at a run. Castis was right behind them. Adrien would have been too, if Favrus hadn't stopped him. “Sir, you've got a concussion. At the least, you need to be checked out yourself.” 

He nodded, eyes still on the swinging doors. “Right. Concussion.” He sat down on the edge of the shuttle, the excitement wearing off now and the ache settling in.

One medic got on the radio to request a doctor and the other began checking his vitals. “How are you feeling, sir? Any light headedness?”

“Slightly dizzy. Ears ringing. Stiff neck. Vision is fine.” He answered question after question and followed the man's finger with his eyes, all the standard checks. 

When another doctor appeared, he was brought inside and checked over again. She introduced herself as Doctor Peadra, head of neurology. Apparently, being the Primarch meant department heads dealt with you directly. It also meant he got every test possible, CT, MRI and an x-ray. Overkill at its finest. 

By the time he was released with orders to rest and an over the counter painkiller, it had been nearly three hours. Captain Favrus escorted him to one of the nurse's lounges where Castis had been given space to wait for an update on Garrus’ condition. A hierarchy guard was at the door for the elder Vakarian and another three had appeared at some point to cover him. He left the four soldiers and the Captain behind, closing the door behind himself.

Castis was standing by the window. He looked up as the door shut, just long enough to ascertain the identity of the intruder. Victus caught the slight shimmer of a barrier over the window in the late afternoon sunlight. His security team wasn't playing loose anymore. Both good and bad. “How's the headache?” Vakarian asked with genuine concern. 

“Mild concussion,” he answered honestly. “I've had worse. How are you holding up?” 

In a surprising move, he laughed. “Poorly. He's had worse, I know that, but I've never been so close while it's been happening. Even as a child, when he broke his arm, I wasn't there. I was working on the Citadel.” He paused before sighing, long and exasperated. “He's in surgery. As for the attackers, we still don’t know how they got passed security, but we’ve managed to ascertain the initial positions of the snipers. Not that it does us much good.”

“Is there anything that we can do?”

Castis shook his head. “Wait. That's all. Even being through worse, this time, his fight might not be enough. They nearly lost him once more before they got him under anesthesia.” His fists were clenched tight at his sides. The anger and helplessness obvious.

“I’m sorry.” He stepped forwards and tried to squeeze the older man's shoulder, but flinched back when Castis pulled away. 

“That doesn't help. We both know this wasn't your fault, and we both know that, even if he doesn't- he doesn't make it - then he wouldn't have changed his mind about leaping in front of that bullet. My son is too righteous for his own Spirits damned good.” 

Adrien nodded. “Has anyone called Solana, yet? She's still on the Citadel, isn't she?” 

“I haven't called her. I… I couldn't do this to her. Tell her, only to leave her hanging on a cliff’s edge for updates.” He looked at his omnitool. “Shit. It's just morning there now. I can't wait much longer.” 

A knock at the door pulled their attention. The Captain stepped in with one of the doctors. “How is he?” Victus asked, unable to wait.

“Primarch, Security Chief,” the doctor greeted. “We've completed the surgery and moved General Vakarian into recovery. We managed to remove the shrapnel and he's been stabilized.” 

The tension in the room dissipated almost immediately. “Thank the Spirits.” 

Tension returned just as quickly at the pinched look on the doctor's face. “That isn't all, unfortunately. He's out of surgery, yes. But only because we do not have a cybernetics specialist on site at this time. I have my staff scouring for one now. Even still, it is unlike anything any of my staff have seen before. The tech in his shoulder took the brunt of the damage, and it's now malfunctioning. When we stopped the anesthesia and woke him to check for a concussion, he… he started screaming. The nerve endings in his shoulder are firing off nothing but pain signals to his brain.”

“What does that mean?” Castis asked, voice tight. 

“It means that we've had to induce a coma until he's had surgery to correct the problem, or remove the arm entirely. We’re not even sure if the latter is possible yet considering the level of integration, the cybernetics were attached directly into his central nervous system. Effective, but as you can see, ludicrous when the parts malfunction.”

Adrien pinched at the bridge of his nose, the headache building again as he tried to wrap his mind around the new problem. “The day the  _ Normandy  _ was found, I watched the woman that installed the system perform surgery on his arm. She's on the Citadel still, as far as I am aware. Captain, get in contact with Admiral Hackett immediately and find out where Doctors Lawson and Chakwas are. Then have someone get the fastest ship we've got prepared. I want General Vakarian on the Citadel before morning.”

“He's not stable enough to move yet, sir. I should have a cyberneticist here within a few hours.” 

Castis shook his head. “Then make him stable enough. You said his cybernetics were so advanced that you didn't want to chance working on them. We don't have time for someone to learn what makes them tick, not when we have the designer within a few hours travel at FTL.”

“Understood, sirs.” The Captain nodded and hurried out of the room, already on her omnitool barking orders. 

“It's your choice of course, sirs. We can send a doctor with him to the Citadel, as well as a nurse to cover anything that might happen enroute. I will admit that he's weak. If he can survive the next day, then his chances improve dramatically.”

“Then we make sure that happens,” Adrien replied quietly. “Have him ready for transport when the ship arrives.”

-+-+-+-

It had been three months since the fleets departed Sol. Three months of hard work and strife. Rationing was ongoing, but no one was starving, and everyone had access to clean water. Maybe within a year’s time, things would start to go back to normal. For now, however, the multi-species council was keeping things under control.

The new council met once a week via video conference, exchanging resources and labour when required to make ends meet. The relays were slowly becoming more reliable, and the network became more interconnected again as teams managed to reach the minor systems. It seemed as though the tides were beginning to turn.

The Citadel showed the quickest signs of improvement. The galactic hub, still in the Sol system, was nearly repaired. The majority of the remaining damage was cosmetic and, without the keepers, it would take years to restore it to its former state, but it was functional. Crucible teams had begun work on designing a rig to move the Citadel back to Widow. Hopes were high that, within the year, they’d be able move it to the more central location.

The  _ Normandy  _ crew had also been hard at work. Everyone spread between work crews on the Citadel and some on Earth. Even Joker had left the confines of the ship, Liara thinking it would help him work through EDI’s inability to be revived. Tali was still hopeful that, once she had the Geth fully operational, they would be able to do something for her, but that time was still a ways away. 

Shepard had been allowed to leave the hospital after the first month. Anderson’s, now her, apartment was still in good repair, so she’d moved in. Liara and Miranda had taken the upstairs rooms and she’d taken the lower level, more out of necessity than inclination. The ex-Cerberus Operative was working as Shepard’s primary physician and caretaker. They had managed to get her walking with the prosthetic, only a cane for support. If things continued to improve, Miranda figured they would be able to clone a new leg within the coming months.

Liara had been hard at work bringing her empire back online after her absence. Thankfully, Feron had stood in for her while she was away, otherwise, she might have had to reestablish the entire network from scratch.

It was an odd existence still for the Commander. She hadn’t been asked back to service yet due to her injuries, nor would she have accepted. She was in a word, tired. After so many years of fighting, so much loss, it was odd to sit back and watch everyone else for a time. Daily exercises with Miranda had her getting stronger by the day. Even her hair had started to regrow, just long enough now to pull back into a small tail. At this point, she was even being allowed to leave the apartment by herself for a few hours at a time. Well, by herself meaning with only a guard, and not a doctor, at her side.

Today’s guard was Kaidan. 

Shepard hadn’t seen the man in person since before the final push, he’d been Earth bound ever since. The Major had been coordinating rescue efforts in London until the new council had decided they wanted all remaining Spectres recalled to the station. Each was allowed a window within which to arrive, as most had been given taskings by their respective government heads, some were taking longer than others. Kaidan managed to gain a day’s leave while he was on the station and, naturally, he spent it convincing the Commander to have lunch with him. 

They sat down at one of the cafes nearby her apartment. It was a sunny morning, as always considering the artificial lighting, but it was pleasant nonetheless to have the warmth on her skin. The hostess served them real coffee and fresh baked cinnamon rolls, having immediately recognized Shepard, much to her embarrassment. 

Eating and chatting about everything but the war occupied their time. It was nice. To smile and laugh about the good old days, most stories from before the days of the  _ Normandy _ , when Anderson was still the CO and Shepard his second.

It was nearing the end of their meal when the day quickly took a much darker turn. The news might have been missed had there not been a turian female sitting at the bar, drinking her morning kava while watching the ever present newsfeed.

She’d asked the shopkeeper, a salarian man, to turn up the volume on the vid screen. Considering the cafe had become a prominent location for recovery teams to amass, they’d set up an all hours newscast. It mostly idled in the background, but, every so often, something of importance came across the screen. Today was one of those days.

By the time they’d tuned in, Shepard had missed the initial breaking news introduction. Only really starting to listen when she heard the location, Palaven. It was enough to grab her interest.

_ We now have video from earlier today, where an attempt on the Primarch’s life was made at the Cipritine  _ _ Dimarcheío. Shots were fired during an address to the city’s primary military force. An, as of yet unnamed, General of the Hierarchy has been confirmed to have been shot while ensuring the safety of the Primarch of Palaven. We warn you that the following footage is graphic, and viewer discretion is advised. _

The screen switched from the news anchor's desk to a camera on Palaven. Obviously, another news agency had been covering the event. The video panned across the parade square, showing turian forces formed up in squadrons. When the camera stilled, it faced the front podium, elevated on a small stage to make it more visible to the rear guard. The audio wasn’t strong. Instead, the newscaster was narrating. 

_ As you can see, the Primarch was halfway through his address before the General noticed something was amiss. Watch the third officer on the left side of the podium, if not for his quick action, the outcome may have been quite different. Just there, he catches something, and he moves. That flash, we’re being told, is a concussive blast breaking through the personal shield generators that turian officials wear. You can see other soldiers starting to respond now, building a wall to protect from further gunfire. Thus far, the only two reported injuries are Primarch Victus and the turian General. We have not received a report on their conditions, and both have been transported to hospital. The Primarch finished his address amid the chaos and was subsequently evacuated.  _

_ We will provide additional updates as they become available. Our thoughts go out to the the Hierarchy this morning. In other news... _

The video cut back to the news anchor, but Shepard had long stopped paying attention to the words. Her eyes were glued to the screen, where she watched helpless as Garrus got between the assailant and his mark. Her voice had been taken from her as shields flickered and died before he hit the ground. 

Kaidan turned to her, already on his feet by the time the news vid ended. “Shepard, we don’t know who that was. He’s not a General.”

She didn’t look at him as she replied, toneless. “I would know that visor anywhere. Take me home. I need… I need to get to Liara. She’ll know what’s going on.” She stood on shaky legs, using the table for support. 

He threw a credit chit down on the table and moved to her side. “You’re right. Liara will know what to do. But it might not have been him, Shepard, we don’t know that yet.”

She slammed a fist down, toppling the glass centrepiece on their table and garnering the attention of most the cafe. “I think I know what he looks like. Stop telling me I don’t. And now he might be dying or already dead while I was sipping fucking coffee. Do not tell me I’m wrong, Major. Now is not the fucking time.”

 

+-+-+-+

 

Castis sat quietly at his son’s hospital bed aboard the  _ Veloce _ , a turian Spectres’ personal craft . Garrus’ doctor was in conference with the human woman, Miranda Lawson. They’d been arguing for over an hour now, each thinking that their course of action would be better than the other’s. Every so often, the nurse would return and take a few readings or samples and return back to the ship’s main room. Each time, the yelling got louder.

There was nothing the Vakarian patriarch could do but wait. He’d sent a message to Solana before they hit the relay and hoped it got there before the news did. He’d promised to take care of Garrus when he left her on the Citadel a month prior. She’d managed to find work helping to reprogram computers and VI’s, which required she stay put.

It was another hour before they arrived on the Citadel. When they did, there was a C-Sec escorted ambulance waiting for them, and, upon arrival at the hospital, an operating room. His son was pulled immediately into a long surgery, of which the family was barely informed about. 

Castis found his own way to the waiting room and sat in silence beside Solana. Over the course of the next few hours, members of Garrus’ old crew and C-Sec department joined them. Decian Chellick brought food, which no one ate. James Vega tried to lighten the mood with a story, but was quickly shut down by a shake of Liara T’Soni’’s head. He soon learned everyone’s name; Jack, Tali, Steve, Kaidan, Grunt. And just when he had decided that the Commander no longer cared, she too appeared, mouth drawn into a tight line, eyes red rimmed.

The Vakarians hadn’t seen Shepard since the day the  _ Manae  _ left for Palaven. Shepard had never contacted them, and Castis had been beginning to think he was wrong about the human woman. That maybe she hadn’t really cared for his son, after all. The look of pain on her face put him at odds with himself over it. Had it taken Garrus almost dying again to force her to confront her feelings? 

It was possible.

Hours passed before they received news. Miranda came into the waiting room, all eyes springing up to watch her every move as she pulled off her mask and blue speckled smock. “He’s in recovery now,” she said. The collective sigh of relief audible between most of the room’s occupants. “Don’t get your hopes too high, please,” she continued quietly. “He hasn’t woken up yet from the coma.”

Jack, ever blunt, spoke up first. “When will he?”

At the small, sad shake of Miranda’s head, she shut up. “He may not.” She looked to Castis and Solana. “Would you like to speak privately?” 

As much as the Vakarian patriarch wanted to say yes, he knew Garrus’ friends would want to know what was happening. Leaving them out now would only force he or Solana to repeat it, so instead, he replied, “This is private enough. What can you tell us?”

Internally, Miranda was thankful to him; externally, she kept her feelings to herself and carefully explained the situation. Garrus was put into a coma to overcome the pain from his cybernetic hub being all but destroyed by the snipers on Palaven. She’d replaced the hub and, in the process, had needed to disconnect his nerves from it, leaving his arm pain free, but useless. What happened to his arm next could be determined later, but, for now, the important issue was the coma. When they’d removed the sedatives, he hadn’t woken. His brain had suffered a trauma from the concussive blast and, by putting him out, they’d caused more damage.

All there was to do now was wait. 

And they waited for days. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In honor of the other rare pairings I've been writing lately, namely Avi/Macen and a weird Garrus/Wrex Garrus/Adrian love triangle... here's another one!
> 
> Fanfiction Recommendation: When I Wake by dieofthatroar. http://archiveofourown.org/works/10757496 . Avi/Macen from Andromeda.


	14. Weighing the Options

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes tough love is the best medicine. Elsewhere, there is only so much trauma one can take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost at the end now. Uh... warnings apply to this chapter. I don't want to tell you what they are here because it'll ruin it. So if you need it read a trigger warning its in the end of chapter author's notes section. If you prefer to live on the edge, read away.
> 
> And I get it! Stop hurting Garrus. Understood. I promise that this is the last time.

Chapter 14

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Miranda manually pulled the door shut to avoid making more noise than strictly necessary. It was early, just 0500 Citadel time, and the Presidium’s artificial sunlight was just starting to make itself known. In the twilight, she’d made her way to Huerta to check on her patient. Overnight, there had been no change to his condition, and Garrus stubbornly remained in his coma.

Or that’s what she had been told. Instead, she turned around to face foggy blue eyes with a questioning look and a slightly pained expression that had become all too familiar. “Garrus. Good to see you’re awake.”

The turian hummed a hello. “Is it worth asking what happened? Or how the hell you got to Palaven?” He moved to sit up a little more, his good arm helping to prop himself up while the other was pinned to his chest in a sling. “No. Not Palaven. Air’s not right.”

“The Citadel.” She explained before crossing the gap between the door and bed. “You’re on the Citadel, been here for just under a week.” A quick press on her omnitool gave her a small light beam which she used to check his pupil dilation. “Do you remember what happened?”

He followed her finger behind the beam as he’d done so many times before, a life of concussions and close calls made the routine second nature. “No. Remember I was on Palaven.” He closed his eyes and racked his memory a little. “Was at an address of some sort. Victus… wait, is the Primarch alright?” The heart rate monitor sped up.

Miranda softened slightly. “He’s fine. Thanks to you, from what I’ve been told. You noticed a sniper in the knick of time. Got between the Primarch and the two of them. First one took down your shields, the second shot embedded itself in your shoulder.” She put her hand on her own shoulder to mirror where he’d been hit.

That calmed him slightly. “Mhm. Can’t feel my hand,” he said, pointedly looking down at the still appendage in the sling.

“The cybernetic hub that I installed was destroyed. You’ve got a few options, but we can discuss those later.” Her patient shook his head slightly. “Garrus, you aren’t a soldier anymore. We have time to find another solution.”

“I want use of my arm, Miranda. What are my options?”

Instead of differing the talk, the ex-Cerberus Operative broke it down and explained in technical terms each course of action they could take. Each one worse than the last. From the pain of reconnecting the hub to his nervous system, to a complete amputation of his arm. It went from bad to worse and even Garrus’ Skyllian Five face could last so long. When she finished he was quick to decide on a new hub, despite the pain. It meant he’d get functionality back within a few days instead of being stuck with the  _ chance of, _ or,  _ no feeling whatsoever _ ever returning to his arm and hand.

“You’ve had a few visitors while you were out.” She offered in an attempt to change the subject. The turian sighed and slowly forced himself into a sitting position, feet carefully planted on the floor. “Garrus, you need rest.”

“You said I’ve been out for days, had shorter down time after my face was half blown off.” He started disattaching the monitoring wires. “You going to take the IV out or am I?” 

“Neither. Where will you go?” she asked pointedly. 

“Anywhere but here.”

She shook her head in defeat and rounded the bed to detach the IV before he ripped it out himself. “As I was saying,” she began again as she capped the line and taped it to his arm. “You had visitors, your father and sister barely left the hospital. Everyone from the  _ Normandy  _ crew that’s still on the Citadel came by for a least a few hours. Shep….”

“Where’s my visor?” he interrupted. 

The blatant avoidance of Shepard didn’t catch her by surprise so much as it disappointed her. “I don’t know. You didn’t have it with you when you were transferred, as far as I’m aware. Perhaps your father has it.” He hummed in acknowledgment before standing on legs stiff from disuse. He towered over Miranda, more than a full head taller than the, above average height, human. 

Crossing to the small private washroom, he entered and closed the door behind himself. After a few moments, the shower started. Miranda crossed her arms and sighed before shutting off the machines and tidying up the hospital bed. She was a patient woman when required, and the turian warranted a few minutes of waiting. If not for his sake, then for the Commander’s. 

When the water shut off a few minutes later, she waited patiently for him to resurface, standing by the window to give him privacy to reenter the room and dress. He moved slowly, though a little more surefooted than when he first stood up. After she heard the sound of pants buckling into place and boots clipping on, she turned to face him. “If you’re going to leave, at least let me redress that shoulder before you go.”

“That’s fine. When do you want me back for surgery?” She replied that she should have everything prepared by the next day. He agreed while patiently waiting for her to finish slathering on additional medigel and fixing a new bandage over the still healing wound. His recovery had been swift physically, likely due to the weight he’d gained in the past three months and the quick actions of the doctors on Palaven. 

He wasn’t in danger of collapsing anytime soon, but she didn’t want him to be alone, or, more importantly, leave the confines of the hospital. “Can I call someone for you?” Miranda asked. When he declined, she sighed. “Garrus, I can’t let you leave here. You can barely walk.” 

“I can manage.”

“Just because you can manage doesn’t mean you should. Modern medicine has mostly healed your body, but I’d like you to stay here for a least another day. For heaven’s sake, Garrus, you’ve been unconscious almost a week. I wasn’t even sure you were going to wake up.” 

At that thought, he paused, rubbing a tired hand over his face. “Maybe I shouldn’t have. Would have been easier.” With that, he turned and strode out the door, not stopping when Miranda called after him. 

“Shit,” she swore at his back, watching him walk down the hall. She wasn’t about to chase after him. He’d come back eventually and Miranda almost understood where he was coming from. She’d been there on Omega, seen him at his lowest. There was only so much one man could handle, and Garrus might have hit that limit.

A few hours alone might even do him some good, she reasoned.  

In any case, Lawson had a lot of work to do in preparation for Vakarian’s surgery the next day. The ex-Cerberus operative wanted to find a better way to reconnect his nerves into the cybernetic hub, and she only had the day to do it. Waiting much longer than they already had would only damage his arm further, possibly making it irreparable. 

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A few hours later, Castis and Solana arrived back at the hospital to find Garrus’ room empty. Which was concerning, to say the least. After a quick look around, the retired investigator found a few things that leant more towards a pleasant outcome than a negative one. First off, the room was tidy, machines turned off but not taken away. A quick glance in the washroom showed water still drying in the shower stall and the hygiene kit he’d left for his son partly used. 

“The clothes we left are gone, dad,” Solana said when he came back into the main room. “I think he’s awake.” 

Her high spirits were infectious and Castis couldn’t help but smile back. “I think you’re right. But that doesn’t explain where he went.” 

“Maybe to the physiotherapy wing?” She hummed in question. “Knowing him, he’d want to be anywhere but lying in bed. I’ll message Miranda, she said she was coming in early this morning to work on his cybernetics.”

Her father nodded, pulling up his own tool. “I’ll send Garrus a message as well. I don’t know how well he’ll be able to use his omnitool with his arm in a sling, but it’s worth a try.”

A few minutes later, they’d both come up short. Miranda came back in a bit of a panic. “I thought he’d be with you.” She had explained how he’d woken in the early hours and left, expecting that he would have gone home to his family, or at the very least contacted them. 

“Maybe we just missed him.” Solana tried for calm but was failing miserably. “Or he’s gone back to his own apartment?”

Castis hummed in agreement. “You check there, Solana. I’ll check in with a few contacts, see if anyone’s seen him. Miranda, can you figure out if he’s with your old team?” The females agreed and the three of them split up, doing their best not to incite a panic among Garrus’ allies and friends while they were at it. 

It was a few hours before they met up again at Apollo’s Cafe, a few extra squad members in tow. Thus far, they’d managed to keep the search fairly quiet. The authorities were not involved, beyond Chellick who was being held in the strictest confidence. One of the Primarch’s aids had called earlier for an update, but was lied to and told there was no change. 

Shepard had yet to be told what was going on. Jack was keeping her busy with her pet varren, Eezo, although, from the biotic’s last message, the Commander was starting to become suspicious of the sudden visit. Shepard hadn’t been to the hospital since Garrus came out of surgery, but Miranda had been sending her updates.  

“We need to tell her,” James was saying to the rest of the team. “Maybe Lola will know where he’s gone.”

Miranda shook her head. “I’d rather we avoid that, if possible.”

“If she knows where to find Garrus, then that’s more important,” Solana argued back. “My brother’s life is more important right now than her comfort.” She shrugged off her father’s hand when he tried to calm her down, her anger at the situation rising, and she wasn’t any better than Garrus at hiding her feelings. In fact, she may have been much worse. “Remember what happened last time he disappeared, dad? He was gone for two spirits damned years.”

“Solana, enough.” Castis cut her off.  

The following silence was telling as to the mood of the group. Her next words didn’t need to be said. The entire group knew she was alluding to his return afterwards, half his face gone and a body full of scars. 

“So who’s going to tell her?” Vega asked after a full minute of silence.

An unexpected voice replied, “Tell who what?” All heads turned to face the newcomers, Shepard stood with her arms crossed and an apologetic looking Jack was at her side, the varren pup panting on a lead beside them. 

Liara cleared her throat. “Garrus has gone missing,” she said bluntly, earning her a sharp glare from the ex-cerberus operative seated beside her. “He woke this morning, left the hospital, and, now, no one has heard from him.”

If Jane was thrown, she didn’t show it. Her Commander’s mask firmly in place. She took a few paces forwards and seated herself at the table in the only empty chair and Jack leaned against the railing behind her. She took a look at the group; Miranda, Liara, James, Solana, Castis, Steve, and now Jack. “Walk me through it,” she said, looking at Lawson.

The ex-operative broke it down for her, all the places they’d checked and some of their ideas on where he might have gone. His medical situation being fairly stable, but a concern if left alone too long, his medications would be needed before day’s end.

“There’s one other place he might be,” she said once the other woman had finished. “I’ll need someone to hotwire a cab for me.”

Jack grinned at the suggestion, missing her previous life at times. “What do you need?”

Before Shepard could reply, Solana cut in. “I’ll do it. I’m just as good as Garrus with programming. And, last I checked, he didn’t really want to see you.”

Stunned silence followed the turian again, a few swear words too from some, and a complete lack of reaction from Shepard. After a moment, Solana continued. “When was the last time you sent him a message? The last time you reached out to him? Even saw him? Just tell me where you think he is and I’ll go check it out on my own.”

“I’m going with you.” Jane said bluntly after she’d let Solana finish. 

“Fine.”

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With no room left for anyone to argue, Shepard and Solana made their way to the nearest rapid transit hub and they waited in silence for the next available vehicle. When it arrived, they got in on opposite sides, the turian getting to work on the systems while the human input a nearby destination. She would take control manually once they arrived.

It didn’t take Solana long to hotwire the cab, her fingers flying across the consol. Once she’d finished, she sat back in her seat and left the controls to the Commander. “We’re about fifteen minutes away,” Shepard offered and sat back herself. “I won’t need to adjust our course for another ten or so.”

It took a few minutes of awkward silence before Garrus’ sister sighed and broke it. “Shepard. What I said…”

“You were right,” Jane interrupted, her eyes closed and her head tilted back against the headrest. “I haven’t been there for him. I’ve been too caught up in my own shit to get over myself and get back to him. I’m sick of no one blaming me, fuck. It’s like everyone is walking on eggshells trying not to upset me.”

“Eggshells?” Solana asked with a small chuckle.

Jane opened her eyes and continued to stare at the ceiling for a moment before dragging her gaze down to meet Solana’s. “Being overly sensitive with me.” At the understanding nod, she continued. “I’ve been under stress for so long that the cracks were finally starting to show. I was breaking. And then I cut off my nose to spite my face. I overreacted. Cut Garrus out, to my own detriment. I need him.”

“I think I get it now,” Solana said in reply. “I am sorry for pushing, but I’m not sorry that it worked. I think he needs you too.”

An alert caught Shepard’s attention, they were approaching the point where she’d need to take control. “I hope you’re ready for this,” she said before disengaging the autopilot and tilting the trajectory of the skycar upwards, narrowly avoiding a collision with another cab. 

Solana strapped herself in a little tighter and held on to the handhold above the door. “What the hell? Are you trying to get us killed?”

“We’ll be fine,” Shepard replied, maneuvering them higher and higher until Solana could see the curvature of the Presidium. “Surprised no one warned you about my driving,” she said taking a quick look at the turian beside her.

“If they had, maybe I wouldn’t have offered to go with you!” 

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Garrus sat alone at the top of the Presidium, his back against the cab he’d acquired that morning. He was letting the time pass him by, back in the place where he’d been happiest. Where he’d asked Jane if she wanted to be  _ a one turian kind of woman. _

It was a fond memory.

There was little breeze up here, the curvature of the station and it’s systems causing just a slight change in pressure differential. The artificial sky was clear as usual and, if anything, a bit too bright considering his headache. He looked out instead of down, the curvature of the Presidium easily seen from this height. 

He’d spent hours considering his options.

The newly appointed turian general could just go back to his life at the Primarch’s side like nothing had ever happened. Or he could leave that life behind, this newest injury enough of an excuse to shirk his duties if he played it up, if he didn’t fix his arm. He looked down at the useless appendage with a scowl. He knew what it would take to fix the arm, he vividly remembered the first time and, vaguely, the second. 

Pain was nothing new, and knowing that he had an option to avoid it this time was tempting. He’d lose his shooting arm if he didn’t. Not that he was useless with only his left. What was making him useless was the pain in his chest, the physical scar tissue that ate away at his lungs and the emotional scars from so many years of heartbreak. First his best friend, then his squad, then nearly his own life was lost before he found out about Sidonis’ betrayal and realised that Shepard was back from the dead. He’d endured more than most, and maybe it was time for it to end. 

He’d considered it before. Killing himself, that is. After Omega. After the Reaper War when he’d been starving and near death. Before entering the Sol system, he’d decided to finish himself if Shepard was dead and gone. Like a good bondmate should, one unable to live without the other. 

He had no children to care for like his father did. By all accounts, he’d done his duty to the Hierarchy in saving the Primarch. And the most important point of all, his bondmate, though alive and well, did not want him. 

By the time he’d come back to himself, he was standing at the edge of the support beam. The breeze blowing around him, whipping at his loose clothing. He looked down, seeing the clear shot straight down into the water of the Presidium’s water supply. From this height, hitting water would be akin to hitting a concrete pad. And he knew that, if the fall didn’t kill him outright, which was unlikely, then the subsequent drowning would. 

It would be quick. Painful, he imagined, but he hoped not worse than having his nerves ripped apart and put back together again. Not as bad as when he’d been beaten within an inch of his life and raped by the gangs on Omega. Not as bad as realising that his entire team had been betrayed by one of their own, left to bleed out in the muck.

Not as bad as the memory of having his heart ripped out by the woman he loved. 

Garrus closed his eyes and took a single step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Suicidal thoughts and actions. I do stand by my tag, Eventual happy ending! It shows up, I promise!
> 
> FanFiction Recommendation: Feathers, Squish, and Soft Plates by LiterallyThePresident. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11359647 . Because needing something light and fluffy helps after this kind of chapter, Jaal meets babies. 
> 
> Or if you need more rare pair: My Empire of Dirt by SweetVenom Kaetus/Sloane. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11212599


	15. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Shepard arrives at the one place no one else knew to look, but is she too late?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Thank you so much for reading and sending kudos and comments my way. Love you all for it. It's so encouraging to see so many people reading and enjoying what I've written. This is the end of the main story arcs for this Shepard and Garrus. I'll be posting an occasional PWP using this as the characters' backstory. 
> 
> Thank you again to my wonderful Beta, Squiggly_Squid, for putting up with me all all my issues. 
> 
> Enjoy, Chapter 15.

Chapter 15 

“He’s here,” Shepard said with a sigh of relief. Slowing the cab down and setting it up to land on the support beam beside, what had to have been, Garrus’ ride up to the top of the Presidium. 

Solana visibly relaxed. “How did you know he’d be here?” she asked. Eyes searching for her brother as they approached. “This is a little out of the way.”

The Commander looked over to Solana with a smile. “This was our spot. It’s where he asked me if I wanted be his mate. Where I said yes.” They were less than a few hundred metres out now and she still didn’t see anyone. Her voice was slightly concerned when she asked. “Do you see him?”

The turian shook her head. “No. Maybe he’s in the cab? There’s nowhere else to sit, right?”

“Right.” Shepard agreed, shutting the car down. It was too quiet so she said,  _ he must be tired _ , to try and fill the space  As soon as she was able, the door was open and she was scrambling out of the vehicle. “Wait here.”

Solana was already on her feet, but stopped short at the Commander’s request. Shepard was right, she could wait, if only for a few minutes.

The door to the cab was unlocked and it swung open as Shepard tried it. “Garrus?” She called out, and, upon looking in the cab, she found it empty. Her heart caught in her throat. The pure unadulterated dread as the implications of the empty cab washed over her. 

“Garrus!” She called out again, moving out of the cab and around to the front. Eyes scanning the length of the support beam. It was empty.

Solana was already moving by the time she started running. Barely holding her back from the edge as Shepard started to get too close, all but screaming her partner’s name into the wind. Tears fell from her eyes as she cried and dropped to her knees, gazing out to what would have been Garrus’ last sight. 

“This isn’t happening,” the turian started saying out loud. “He can’t be. He wouldn’t...” Sol had wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her away from the edge even as she keened her sorrow as well. 

And a few seconds later, Solana screamed for an entirely different reason. There was a hand on her shoulder. She jumped back, pulling Shepard with her. From the ground, she looked up at her brother’s confused face and blinked in her shock.

“Sol? Jane?” he asked. His head titled to the side, eyes foggy and sleep lagged. 

“Garrus?” She asked stunned. “I thought… I thought you…” Solana was on her feet in half a second, arms wrapped around her brother’s cowl, face pressed into his shoulder. An  _ oomph  _ of discomfort as she all but smashed into him. 

“I’m right here,” he replied in a hushed tone, voice tight. “I’m not going anywhere. Solana, look at me. Hey… it’s alright.” It took her another minute to get control of herself before she let up, apologizing for squeezing him so hard. “Can I have a minute with Jane?”

Solana nodded and stepped back. “Sorry. Right. I’ll just… uh… be in the cab.” 

He gave her a soft smile. “We’ll be right behind you.” He watched his sister walk back across the support beam. Nodding to her when she looked back at him, encouragingly, and letting her know that he was fine. “That wasn’t what I was expecting,” he said after a quiet minute, turning to look at Shepard instead. He reached his good hand down and helped Shepard up.

The human Commander let go of his hand almost immediately. He tried not to look disappointed as he let it drop to his side. The sniper looked away as she cleared her throat. “I suppose not.” She looked away into the distance too, he could just see her gaze out of his periferie. “I thought you were gone.”

“I’d considered it,” he replied honestly. “Almost did. But decided that it would have been a little dramatic, even for me.”

“It’s not funny, Garrus.” She admonished, turning a glare on him.

He hummed in agreement. “Wasn’t trying to be.” Garrus scrubbed his hand over his face, trying to wipe away the tiredness. “Sit with me,” he requested before walking back to the skycar and sliding down to sit against it, grunting in discomfort as he did so. “I fell asleep,” he explained once she’d joined him. “Been up here a few hours, didn’t realise how tired I was until I sat down.”

“Must have been a shock to wake up to screaming.” Waiting a beat before adding, “I’m sorry.” What she was sorry for, specifically, was left unsaid. The weight of the tiny apology left between them until it was too much.

Garrus started straight out, eyes unfocused. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I know,” came Shepard’s quiet reply. Turning to look at her partner, this being the first time in months she’d seen him, and the first time she’d really looked at him since the final push. She looked upon the new scars across his plates, the old ones more stark than usual, and both his eyes visible without his visor covering half his face. “I’m not sure what scared me more. Thinking you’d jumped or thinking you never wanted to see me again.”

“What’s the difference?” he asked, still not looking at her.

“In once instance, I’d forced you off the edge. In the other, I didn’t catch you.” Shepard wrapped her arms around her knees, head bowed down against them, her next words were muffled, but Garrus could hear them clear enough. “I don’t think I would ever forgive myself if you ended it because of me.”

He sighed. “It wouldn’t have been you, Jane. I haven’t exactly had the most stable life the past few years. From C-Sec to the Reapers, and everything in between. I… I’m tired Jane.” 

“I know the feeling,” she agreed. Shepard looked up from her knees, her voice low and sad as she admitted, “I should have been there when you woke up.”

He finally broke and looked over at her. “I wasn’t there for you either.”

“You were there,” she replied. “You were there every second of everyday on the  _ Normandy _ . You saved my crew. Got them home. And what did I do?” She laughed bitterly. “I told you to leave. I hurt you more with that one statement than I ever could have realised.”

“Shepard, stop…”

“No, let me finish.” At his nod, she continued. “I didn’t get it then, and I’m still not sure I get it now. But I know that you left because I told you to. I don’t know what I was expecting to happen, you’ve always listened to me and done what I’ve needed. I guess I thought you’d fight to stay. I didn’t understand that isn’t in your makeup as a turian. Had you been human, you’d have fought with me, told me I was being dumb and not moved.”

“I’m not human…” His voice was pained, straining under the weight of hearing her words aloud. “I will never be. And I get that you want something closer to home.”

“That’s not it at all!” She grabbed his hand, five fingers sliding into three. “What I mean is, I didn’t understand that you left because you love me. Not because you didn’t. Or you did...”

It was his turn to stop her. “Of course I love you. With everything that I am.” 

“Then please come home. Come home to me, Garrus.” She got to her knees and leaned in, letting him close the last few inches until they touched, Shepard’s free hand coming up to cup his injured mandible, the other still intertwined with his. “I’ve missed you, so much.”

When her knees started to ache and she could feel the tension finally draining out of Garrus’ shoulder, she pulled back, placing a soft, human kiss on his cheek. “I want more,” he said with a small smile. “But this time, I’ll wait. I have no idea what’s going on with my immune system right now.”

Carefully, she levered herself up and reached down to help Garrus. “You have no idea how much I want to kiss you right now. But I’ll wait too. As long as it takes.”

They walked to the skycar where Solana was, not so patiently, waiting. She was just finishing typing something into the car’s computer when they arrived. “I’ve set this cab up to take itself home. Figured I’d drive the other one. I sure as hell am not letting Shepard drive again.”

Garrus smiled, a little wry. “Welcome to the club.”

“You’re still around, aren't you?” Shepard huffed. 

“Not for lack of you trying.” He shot back with a half shrug before getting settled into the back of the vehicle. Mock argument over, Solana got them moving.

For the first few minutes, they were all silent. Although, Garrus could tell Solana wanted to say something, so, instead, he leaned forwards to put a hand on his sister’s shoulder and apologised. “I’m sorry I hadn’t contacted you, Sol. My omnitool isn’t working and I have no idea where my visor went. Not that that is a good excuse...”

“I’ll take what I can get,” she said before her mouth quirked into a frown. “Think it’s gone, G. Your visor, I mean. The newsvids were decent, looked like it was blown right off with the concussive round.”

The drop in his features was visible. Mouth downturned in a hard line. “Dammit.”

“What’s wrong, Garrus?” Shepard asked, concerned. And if she were honest, a little shell shocked at the realisation she didn’t know that the visor had been more than a useful tool. It was part of him, a defining feature, and she hadn’t known it was more than that.

Shaking his head, he sighed. “Had it a long time. Was more a sentimental piece of tech than anything.”

“Mom gave it to you, right?” Solana asked without looking back. His silence was enough of an answer, so she explained the significance to the Commander. “Our mother was amazing with tech when we were young. Could fix anything, and if it couldn’t be fixed, then it could be built better. After Garrus’ first year of boot camp, he was home for a few days. Mom had started building the visor when she’d heard he’d been picked up for the sniper team. Sent it back with him in his pack.”

“Hadn’t left my face for more than a night’s sleep since then,” Garrus explained. “Kept me alive more times then I care to admit. It was a piece of mom. The first few upgrades, we did together, and it helped keep me connected to her. In a way I wasn’t to my father.” He paused a moment. “Sol… you did contact dad, right?”

“Of course!” she replied quickly. “I left out a few details, but he knows you’re alright. Told him we’d meet him back home.” Sol engaged the autopilot as they arrived back into the normal traffic stream. “Uh… if that’s ok with you two, I guess?”

Shepard was the first to reply. “As long as Garrus wants me, I’ll stay.” At his nod of agreement, Solana pulled up her messaging app and requested her father add a levo meal to the dinner order. It wouldn’t do to have nothing but water for her brother’s mate. “How far out are we?” The human asked once the turian had finished typing.

“About a half hour,” Solana replied after checking the console. 

“Rest for a bit, Garrus,” Shepard said to him with a light squeeze on his knee. She could see the fatigue coming off him in waves. He was initially reluctant, but caved quickly after she promised she wasn’t going anywhere. He was dozing in minutes, and full asleep after ten. Her voice was quiet as she leaned forwards to speak with Solana. “I don’t want to leave him.”

The turian nodded in agreement. “I agree that it would be unwise. There’s plenty of room for you. Did you want me to have someone bring a few things? I already let your team know we found him.”

Shepard smiled. “Thank you. I know you and I haven’t been on the best of terms…”

“Stop,” Solana interrupted before she could finish. “You’re my brother’s mate. That’s enough. Dad will feel the same. We can argue later, he can be upset with the fact you’re human later. For now, all that matters is you’ve chosen each other and Garrus is coming home safe. That’s all we can ask.”

“I wish my species was so accommodating,” the Commander lamented. “Would have been easier had I been born turian.” She looked back to watch the slow rise and fall of her mate’s chest. “I wouldn’t have told him to leave.”

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They arrived at the Vakarian family’s apartment a few quiet minutes later, Garrus waking to the deceleration of the vehicle and the slowing engines. Bleary eyed as he was, Shepard helped him inside. Castis was waiting for them and was free with his affection as he pulled his son into an embrace with a solid hand on the back of his neck, crests touching temple to temple, before he pulled back and let the Commander help him to the turian styled couch. 

Food arrived a few minutes later and they ate in relative silence. Solana engaging her father in quiet conversation, for the most part, about what he’d missed while on Palaven and vice versa. Occasionally, Garrus would add a point to his father’s or ask a question, but he was mostly a silent party, slowly working through his meal and actually managing to eat half of it. Shepard was quiet too, saying little more than Garrus. Although, her silence was more for her want to listen, than for exhaustion. 

She’d never had anything like this before. A family unit talking over dinner. It was different than a crew of soldiers sitting around the mess table, even different than her  _ Normandy  _ teams. There were no complaints about the food, no groans of shift rotation, or arguments over who had the best mods. This was a group of people that had known each other since birth. 

Shepard was pulled back into the conversation by Castis. “Will you be staying the night, Commander?” 

“Call me Jane, please.” She insisted first, before confirming that yes she would be. “As long as that’s alright with you and Garrus.”

He huffed a small laugh. “I don’t think I’ve got any say in it. Your son helps save the galaxy, and I think he’s earned some personal freedoms. The beds are turian styled. I’m not sure if that will be sufficient for you.” 

Shepard looked to Garrus with a wry smile. “He’s had to deal with a standard Alliance cot for years, I think I can manage a night.”

+-+-+

When Garrus and Jane reached the top of the stairs, Garrus hesitated. “The one on the end is mine,” he said. “Did you… I mean…”

“If you want me to,” Shepard replied, too quickly, to the unsaid question. Then, more firmly added, “I’d like to. Stay with you, that is.”

He released the breath that he didn’t know he was holding. “I feel like a fledgling,” the turian said more to himself than his partner as they entered his room. Turning on the light, he sighed. “Dancing around. I don’t like it.”

With a hum of agreement, Jane sat down beside him and turned to look him in the eyes. “Then don’t. Let’s both try to talk a little more. I miss you, Garrus. I don’t want to have another misunderstanding. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Alright. I’ll try.” 

“Me too. I’m not exactly a shining example of openness.” Her smile was soft, voice slightly wry. She stood again, taking in the small bedroom. It was about half the size of her cabin on the Normandy, the slightly nest like bed taking up most of the space. It was a little larger than a king; turians were not a short people and Garrus was slightly taller than average. A small table with a lamp was at the bedside and, on the opposing wall by the door, a tall desk stood, a stool tucked underneath it. 

“I think Kasumi’s been here,” Jane said looking at the purple bag on the desk. It obviously wasn’t Garrus’. She checked her omnitool and, sure enough, there was a message from the thief waiting for her. It explained how she’d improved the security system on her way out and that she’d left medication for Garrus in the bathroom. The bag contained everything Shepard needed for the night and a set of clothes for the next day.

“Seems like it,” he replied with a yawn as he started to pull off his sling. “Washroom is across the hall if you need it.”

“I’ll be right back.” 

Garrus only hummed in reply, reaching into the drawer of the nightstand for his sleeping clothes. By the time he’d changed, Jane was back, smelling slightly of mint and dressed in sweatpants and a tank top. She had an IV bag in her hands and he groaned. “Again?”

“Apparently.” She crossed the room, dropping her bag at the bedside and allowing Garrus to take the fluids from her. Clumsily, he rotated the arm of the floor lamp and attached the bag to it. She waited patiently, knowing he’d need assistance with it, but not wanting to push.

“I’m going to need help,” he admitted after a short minute, eyes fixed on the IV port still embedded in his good arm.

Shepard nodded. “Of course. Why don’t you get comfortable?” Once he was settled on his back and looking away she inserted the IV line. Even though it had been a long time, her N7 training included combat medicine. Stabilizing a patient had been as far as they went, but the knowledge sufficed for now. 

With that task finished, she rounded the bed and climbed in on the opposing side, the mattress much softer than she was used to. It only made sense for the bed to be softer to accommodate all a turian’s angles. The covers weren’t too thick, but the temperature in the apartment was more than warm enough to compensate for it. She found herself unsure of where to settle, not wanting to crowd Garrus, while still wanting to be touching him.

“Little difficult for me to wrap my arm around you,” he stated. Almost as if he sensed what was wrong. “Come closer?”

A quick slide over was all it took to mould herself to his right side. One arm under her own pillow and the other settling on his abdomen, her hand finding his. Garrus’ injured arm was between them, resting useless under their clasped hands. “Is this alright?” she asked gently. 

Jane felt him nod into her hair. 

He took a few deep breaths, beginning to calm now. “Thank you.”

With a smile, she placed a soft kiss on his arm before tilting her head up and leaving one more on his jaw. When she felt the tension drop out of him completely, she let herself relax too. Just as she started to drift off, she decided there was one last thing left to say. 

Her voice was warm when she whispered three little word. “I love you.”

“I love you, too,” came the sleep addled reply.

She smiled into his chest. “Welcome home, Garrus.”

+-+-+-+-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tada! 
> 
> Feel free to comment if there's a specific situation you'd like to see this couple go through, post war. I feel like we can have a LOT of fun with that. 
> 
> Final Fanfiction Recommendation: Belong to Me by Kate_Shepard. An AU first contact war story with ShepardXSaren. Oodles of fun. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8311030


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